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botanistlester · 7 years

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The Most Beautiful Forbidden Fruit

Summary: In a world where witches and humans live side-by-side, a war breaks out after the two species procreate, producing bloodthirsty children. As a result, the government puts laws into place: Witches and humans must never fall in love or bear children. It’s a rule that Dan Howell and his family have lived hand-in-hand with, even going so far as to make sure that Dan never has prolonged contact with the other species. When Dan goes to his favourite magic shop one day, he meets the new employee, Phil Lester. A human who he can’t seem to get rid of. Warnings: violence, prejudice/discrimination, burning at the stake, mentions of death, blood, alcohol A/N: Holy fuck. it has been WAY too long since i've attacked this fic. i'm seriously so sorry, guys. I've had a lot going on recently and this semester at uni was absolute hell. I'm hoping to get back to this fic soon as i absolutely love the idea so much and have most of it planned out. Thanks so much for sticking with me anyways! Love you all!

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Chapter Seven

It’s been weeks since Dan had first met Phil and he was already starting to feel considerably more relaxed around him. He didn’t get as worked up whenever Phil’s skin brushed against his own and he didn’t even panic all that much either. Of course, he still had those moments of anxiety where he wondered how he was even talking to a human, but that quickly passed when Phil’s gentle blue eyes glinted back at him.

Because that was why he was talking to a human. Phil was hands-down one of the nicest people Dan had ever met and he slowly found that he wanted to know more about him. But how could Dan bring up that fact without utterly embarrassing himself? Or making it seem like Dan wanted to go on a date? He didn’t want to go on a date. Not with Phil. Not with anybody. But mainly not with another human when it risked Dan losing his wonderful powers.

“Dude,” Louise said flatly one night as she was closing up the shop. She gave Dan an unimpressed look as he balanced on the edge of the glass display cabinet. “You gotta ask him to hang out sometime. I know you’re still going through your weird anti-human thing, but you live in the same building for god’s sake. You already know you have a lot in common because you gushed about Muse and anime for two hours straight. But even so, every time you see him, you look like you’re going to shit your pants.”

Dan glared at her. “I do n-!”

Louise stood up straight, pulling her wand out of her pocket and slapping it on the wooden wall with a loud thwak! “You do. And I think it’s time for an intervention.” Before Dan could ask what in the hell she meant by that, the tip of her wand was glowing brightly and Dan’s phone was flying out of his hands and into Louise’s own.

“Hey!” Dan screeched, lunging towards her. She stopped him with a simple flick of her wand and he was suspended in air, stuck, watching as she easily unlocked his phone and visibly typed out a message. “Can you at least let me know what you’re saying?” Dan whined, pouting his lip out and feeling fear flash through him so strong that he wondered how he hadn’t been flung backwards with the force of it.

Louise rolled her eyes. There was the distinctive noise of the sent message tone going off on Dan’s phone and he blanched. “I just asked him if he wanted to go to a human-friendly witch bar with you tonight.”

“A bar? Tonight?!”

“A bar,” Louise said slowly, as if Dan was stupid. He wasn’t stupid, just nervous. “Tonight.” Dan was about to curse at her, already planning which spell he was going to cast on her for revenge that night, when his phone let out a shrill whine. He got a text. Louise’s eyes immediately lit up and she pumped her fists in the air. Dan’s heart sank and his body lowered to the floor with it, finally in control of his limbs again.

He snatched the phone out of Louise’s hands, heart pounding in his chest.

Phil Lester That sounds great! I’ll be at yours around nine?

Dan looked at the clock. It was eight. He cursed under his breath. “Mother fucking bitch,” Dan hissed, scrabbling around for the rest of his supplies that he’d bought. He was considerably low on dragon’s breath and poison ivy so he’d run by the Witch’s Cauldron for some and ended up staying until close just chatting up with his best friend. But now it seemed as if his actions were being payed for and he didn’t know whether to be pissed or anxious. “I hate you so much, you know that?” Dan growled, stalking towards the door.

Louise’s laugh followed him out as the door swung shut behind me. “You’ll be thanking me later!” She called. Dan doubted it.

Don’t get him wrong, Phil was a nice guy. That much was obvious. But he was a human. Dan and humans didn’t get along. He didn’t mind them, of course. He just got so nervous and became a bumbling fool around them, not really knowing what to do or how he should act. Should he talk about the new bottle of fish eyes he had to get for one of his potions? Should he talk about how his cat kept throwing up after Dan accidentally burnt a shitton of sage?

Dan wouldn’t know. He wouldn’t know because he’d never had to deal with this sort of thing before.

He paused outside of his apartment for a bit too long, trying to calm himself down. He couldn’t be worked up when Phil got here because it would make him more of a bumbling fool in the first place. So he just breathed for a moment, closing his eyes and trying to pretend like Phil was just another witch.

Except he wasn’t. And Dan was screwed.

Chamomile pounced on him as soon as the door opened, making him cough as cat hair flung into his mouth. “Dan! I smell anxiety and teenage hormones!”

“What the fuck do you mean by teenage hormones?” Dan grumbled, detaching his cat from his face and setting her on his shoulder instead. He made his way to the bathroom, making sure that his hair was presentable and he didn’t look like a complete funeral. He was wearing all black, as per usual, but he decided not to change anyways.

“You smell like angst and worries. What’s going on?”

Dan sighed and sorted his hair out, splashing cold water over his cheeks to try and calm himself down. “I’m going to a witch bar with Phil.”

Chamomile gaped at him. “But- that’s awesome! You can finally get to know him better!”

Dan didn’t think she understands. But then again, she is a cat so what could he expect really? “He’s just-”

“A human, I know. But who cares? I thought you were over that.”

“I just get nervous,” Dan mumbled.

Chamomile sighed and laid down on his shoulders so she was literally a giant fluffy scarf around his neck. It was comforting, especially with the way her purrs felt like a little massage on his skin. “Just be yourself. There’s nothing to be worried about. You and Phil have been getting along great and he’s a really nice guy. I’m sure there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

Just then, there was a knock on the door and Dan visibly paled. “It’s Phil,” he said dumbly.

“So open the door,” Chamomile replied gently.

Dan did. Even though he knew who it was, he was still surprised to see Phil’s face staring straight back at him. His eyes were shining and his cheeks were tinted a nice peony colour. “Dan!” He exclaimed, and Dan had a moment where he could have sworn Phil was going to hug him.

He didn’t, and Dan didn’t know why he was a bit disappointed by that. “Hey, Phil. You want to come in or should we just go to the bar now?”

Phil shrugged, grinning. “Up to you. I’m fine with leaving now if you’re ready though.”

Dan agreed. What else could he do now, anyways? He’d already had his daily dose of anxiety, and now it was just time to act on it. Without any further contemplation, Dan grabbed his jacket and followed Phil into the cool air of the night. He’d decided to go to a fairly close human-friendly bar called The Brew, which he’d only been to once. From what he remembered, it was a very nice place with decent alcohol. To humans, it’d probably be about ten thousand times better than just regular bars, but to Dan it wasn’t anything unusual.

So when they walked in, Dan couldn’t help his initial first reaction at being surprised when Phil let out an amazed gasp. “What?” Dan asked, eyebrows raised with amusement.

Phil was gaping, his mouth dropped in awe. His eyes were shining, glittering in the dancing lights, and he looked even more pale in the darkness. “This is… this is bloody amazing!”

The remark made Dan try to look at it from a human’s perspective when he took another glance around. There was fog that crept over the floor without the usage of any fog machines. Lanterns floated in the air, flashing different colours, and there was the faint smell of lavender and vanilla in the air despite the sweaty and alcohol-ridden bodies. Artwork hung from the walls and the portraits moved, seemed to be dancing with the throng of people. As they walked further inside, they were each handed a crystal necklace that glowed in the dark. Phil’s crystal was blue and Dan’s was pink, just like his wand.

Dan smiled a bit, finally understanding why Phil was in such shock about this. Compared to a normal human bar, this one was like a fantasy come to life. But to Dan? This was normal. It was fucking amazing.

“Well are you going to keep standing there?” Dan teased, grabbing Phil’s wrist and tugging him over to where he saw the bartender balancing six shot glasses on each arm, a bottle of vodka magically pouring itself into them. “Or are we going to have some fun?”

Needless to say, Dan didn’t have to ask Phil twice before he was ordering six shots of whiskey. The only problem that Dan’s ever found with a witch bar is that the alcohol was way too strong. Compared to a human bar, Dan got blackout drunk far quicker than he’d ever anticipated so he always tried not to go over three shots of whatever the hell he was drinking. He tried to tell Phil but before he could get the words out, Phil was on his fifth shot and was giggling over the stupidest things that he could think of. Dan couldn’t say much because he was giggly as well, just a little bit less so than his human friend.

“There’s a freaking goose on the dance floor!” Phil cackled.

Dan looked. There was a fucking goose on the dance floor. He snorted, accidentally inhaling some of his drink through his nose and coughing violently. “Why- why’s there a goose in here?” Dan snickered, wiping off his nose and putting his hands on his cheeks to try to cool himself down. It was getting hot in here.

“You’re the witch, you tell me!” Phil shot back. He was laughing so hard that he leaned against Dan, the bare skin of their arms touching and sending a weird buzzing feeling through Dan’s entire body. He tried not to pay too much attention to it. Instead, he continued to stare at the goose, trying to figure out why there was a fucking goose in there.

Eventually they downed the rest of their beverages and got up to join the goose on the dance floor. They danced and laughed and spun around until Dan could have sworn he was going to be sick, and he had to wipe his eyes when the goose suddenly turned into a person. He almost had forgotten that witches were a thing at that point, but realised all too late that a witch had probably turned the human into a goose for some odd reason.

He didn’t care. He was too drunk to think about it that hard. And Phil was too, by the looks of it.

“This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” Phil yelled over the booming music. He was doing a weird dance move that made him look like a white dad at a barbeque, but Dan wasn’t judging him because he probably looked the same.

Dan grinned back at him, watching as the floating lanterns made Phil’s eyes shine in the darkness. “Me too, I haven’t felt this relaxed in ages.” He threw his head back and laughed, almost stumbling over, but Phil was right there to catch him, to steady him and make sure he didn’t fall. Instead, Dan was collapsing into Phil, his head on his shoulder and a stupid grin on his face that wouldn’t go away. His voice was breathy when he said, “I guess humans aren’t so bad, are they?”

Phil giggled and his lips were right by Dan’s ear so he could hear him. “That’s what everyone’s been trying to tell you, you idiot.”

When they stumbled to Dan’s flat at one o’clock in the morning, Dan didn’t have to think twice before inviting Phil to stay. Even though they were both pretty trashed, it was entirely too innocent as Dan fell onto his bed, watching through half lidded eyes as Phil stumbled onto the other side of the bed. He didn’t have the heart to tell Phil to get off of his bed, not when he seemed so tired that he looked as if he was going to pass out right then and there.

So Dan just let him stay. He’d had a great time that night anyways and he figured it was only normal for friends to sleep in the same bed together. Because that’s what friends did, and Phil was Dan’s friend.

Friends. The word lifted a huge weight off of Dan’s shoulders and suddenly he wondered why he was so afraid of humans in the first place.

And if Chamomile was so quiet as Dan drifted to bed, he didn’t even notice. He was too tired, too drunk, to care at all.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #phansdick #fanfic #fanfiction #dan and phil #the most beautiful forbidden fruit #tmbff #fic #writing #gay

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247krp · 5 years

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— Rejoice, little lambs! We have recovered our own Cong Li Wei, spotted prancing about in the Northeast Side. I don’t remember seeing him with any clique back in high school, but I’m not here to spill yesterday’s tea. So straight to the rundown: can you say charming and mysterious? Apparently now he spends time as a bartender at Un Poco Tequila Bar and private magic practitioner, and keeps skeletons buried at Banjeom Apartments, 605. But those won’t stay hidden for long, if you and I have any say on it. Welcome back, Magnus; we missed you so.

TW: mentions of death and disease

In case you don’t remember the devil’s name, here’s to refresh your memory:

High school was supposed to be a dark time in his life, because he was an orphan and a weirdo. That is, however, beyond false. High school was the best time in his life. Li Wei had it all, from popularity to lovers of all kind, to decent grades and grand achievements. He was some sort of supernaturally perfect kind of guy. But it was all a façade, for he was hiding his hard work, his ‘religious’ beliefs, and the fact that his father was a murderer. Left alone in the world, after both of his parents dies, Li Wei found comfort in studying and going deep into what knowledge is. Despite popular belief, he was and still is indeed very smart. Though, he kept it low-key in high school, because he loved the popularity more, and he loved being the icon of good looks and heartbreaks. Just like his father, he came to love power and influence. He hung around all the popular kids, and fit in like a glove. He lied his way to power. And maybe he was helped by a little magic. It went smoothly for a long time, people focused on his looks and his rather attractive personality. But the minute GG opened their mouth, he was a goner. GG started the rumour of a warlock roaming on the school’s grounds, and they called him Magnus. It did not take long for everyone to know the identity of this mystery warlock. They regarded it as stupidity, someone who pretends or roleplays, like a fucking loser or nerd. They were surprised to learn it was Li Wei, but they did not let him forget. Instead, he used this to confuse them. Despite what GG was spreading around, they were pretty confused whether or not GG was right about Li Wei. Before they could answer, he graduated. And GG disappeared. Li Wei would love to believe that his curse reached GG, but even after he graduated, he remained alert.

Nevermind the memory lane though, the present is always the ripest fruit:

Li Wei has not lost his charm, although he can be harsh and pretty private. It somehow lures people in, and that is pretty much all he needs for his career. To the public, he is the attractive bartender who knows how to mix drinks, and sneak some ecstasy in when needed. To private clients, he is the key for a perfect break-up or the death of the enemy. Li Wei keeps his life balanced, and he enjoys all that it has to offer. He is very much a carpe diem kind of guy, and sometimes he can get lost in his own fantasies and pleasures. But even then, he is very earthly. He does not allow others to push him around, and has learnt to ignore rumours that are beyond false. In his life there has only been one person who truly brought the worst in him, GG. Shall GG come back, his life might get tipsy for he will not give up until he finds whoever decided to mess up with his reputation. Even so, one could say Li Wei is unbreakable. And truly, he does seem unbreakable. Whether or not he is, is a question of perspective. Anyways, he will make everyone believe he is almighty. He loves his power, and not even GG can take that away.

But we are nothing if not open books – my job is to ensure you get to the best pages:

Her magic was forged by the ancestors, and gifted in a box made of gold. She was born to serve the spirits, and the humans. She was the perfect balance between good and evil, and the four elements. She was a white witch. He was born with flaws, with scars that never healed and powers learnt by reading. His magic used to be the balance between white and black, but power eats at you the more you crave for it. He was a Bokor, made a warlock by the power he craved so. And then, they met .There was nothing written to describe the magicthat arose from their heavenly love. It felt like a rose whose thorns turned into silvery medallions, and whose scent carried a thousand pounds of dust created for the sole purpose of waxing the entire world. It was something Aphrodite herself could not put into words. And if she existed she would certainly be jealous of their passion.

Peizhi Cong was a respected man, a war hero and a close advisor of the Senator. He came from a long line of magic practitioners, with voodoo running through his family’s veins for over three centuries. It was unusual to have an Asian-born Bokor, but certainly Peizhi was the only one made for the job. He used to be an anchor to white and black magic for a long time, but everything changed once he met the one and only Yingyue Jiang. Yingyue was not only the most beautiful woman he has ever met, she is the woman he decided to marry. She came from a long line of white witches, people who practiced earthly magic for healing and altruistic reasons. Although their marriage did not last long, their love managed to bring to life a little bundle of joy. However, Peizhi became addicted to power. With hopes of surpassing the power of the ancestors and impressing his lover, he reached out to the dark side, and was unable to come back. The moment he started killing, the spirits punished him. The more power and influence he got, the less of a human being he became. In his last stage, he was barely alive anymore. Black magic is an abomination of nature, it draws from the dead, and the sacrifice. Peizhi experimented a lot with the dark side, not only of voodoo but also of sorcery and necromancy, some of the knowledge was borrowed from ancient books of spells and potions the Jiang family owned. Yingyue did not realise that she was slowly killing her lover. From his darkness, he did love. But not Yingyue, or she became the object and anchor of his power. He loved his little boy, more than he ever loved anyone else. But, he loved power more. And it was his end. Peizhi was executed when Li Wei was only seven years old. Yingyue and a numerous coven of witches performed a ritual to get rid of Peizhi’s spirit forever. When he died, his power did not just disappear. Li Wei symbolically inherited that power and Peizhi was reborn, inside and through his son.

Li Wei Cong was the happy memory of the family. Both of his parents loved him dearly, but he always felt more attached to his father. Yingyue taught him white magic, and mainly helped him brew potions. Small ones, for short-timed good luck or a whiff of love. His father talked to him, a lot. Peizhi did not teach him voodoo, but he taught him the ways to magic. Through the grimoires he left behind, to the entire history and culture of voodoo, curses, spells and hexes. Li Wei was fascinated, and has dreamed of the day he would be able to conquer the world like his father. To him, Peizhi was a superhero. When Peizhi died, some of Li Wei’s soul died with him. The grief that overcame the young boy was transformed into dark ‘magic’. A macabre version of it. The rituals, spells, hexes, potions and curses Li Wei performs were always way out of balance, according to the coven of Jiang witches. And the ‘spirits’ were not pleased with his magic practices. Yingyue fell ill quickly after her husband died, and despite being supported by her coven through potions that were meant to heal her, she died two years later of what doctors diagnosed to be cancer. Li Wei has lived with his aunt ever since.

Whilst it all sounds like a magical story of love and revenge, one must be aware of the superstition and science behind it all. Magic, as Li Wei was presented, is merely another word for remedies, poisons and incantations that come from the Middle Ages. All of them are rooted in science. From the herbs used to cure a cold, to the dangerous poison that transforms people into ‘zombies’, it is all a myth. But people like the Jiangs and Congs truly believe in the supernatural properties of the entire process. However, Li Wei is well aware there is no magic behind his rituals and spells. Though he must believe beyond doubt that what he does is truly magical, and that he can connected to spirits and absorb their power. He believes he is meant to share this false belief in magic, so he does that with everyone he meets. Whether they are believers or not, Li Wei will makethem believe. What they would later regard as coincidence is merely a well-calculated plan to make their lives harder. Once they believe, they will throw their money at Li Wei to perform protection rituals, and give them potions and spells for the loved ones. Here is the catch: ever since Yingyue died, Li Wei has never come in touch with white magic again. He hated it beyond reason, as he believed white magic is what killed his father. So he only dabbles in the dark side of voodoo and sorcery, making him extremely well-versed in potions, curses, predictions and certain rituals to bring misfortune, or even death.

#247: accepted

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wraithpups-blog · 7 years

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Adventures of Merry and Baxter

Run by the famed adventurer Edmund Helmsplitter, Triple Carted's three-peaked roof loomed over the dusty frontier town of Mud. Like many Adventurer-founded pubs, Triple Carted was generally inhabited by off-duty mercenaries, slayers and other loiterers that were loose with coin and heavy with the burden of over-sized and exotic weaponry. They held equipment aesthetic contests on Fridays, but as was the case in any place where tall tales met the heroes of verse and saga, the regular crowd of Triple Carted had a series of very peculiar traditions. Newcomers were easily spotted and subsequently softened through the use of alcohol and disarming small talk, before being asked to perform a talent or entertaining routine for the bar-goers. Regulars varied depending on the day and hour, but the judges panel on Fonz Day’s Fonzday consisted of a tiny pair of mustached cavaliers, Master Shrapnel the rodent from the East, Mistress Agatha who ran the Apothecary down the road and the local cryptid: Vern the Viking. But today perhaps they had gotten more than they had bargained for. A thin girl wrapped in a feathery traveling cloak and toting an unreasonably large satchel had walked through the rough-hewn wood door not thirty minutes prior, skittish and off-balanced as a lost fawn. She gratefully accepted the drink Agatha pressed gently yet firmly into her hand and soon introduced herself as Merry. Four rounds later, the veterans had the young alchemist on the table, showing off her talents as she chattered on with barely a pause for breath. The regulars sipped their tankards silently, as a crowd of spellbound passerby began to form around the bar. “-and thats when the Guild sent me out here!” Merry said, placing a small martini atop the teetering tower of colorful mixed drinks. Designed to function as the centerpiece of the display, Merry had taken several creative liberties with the trademark skewered olive. The toothpick was carefully splintered and slid into the olive piece by piece, before she gently rolled it down the hand-carved stairs of an icy senate. It was a tiny piece of art. Fine work, especially on such short notice! Merry thought, fishing around in her handbag for one of her newts: a three-toed red named Waldo. She needed two more tails to brew up red smoke and some lights, which would balance out the composition nicely. The restoration draught, essential for multi-tail harvesting, steamed from the small eyedropper used to administer potions, but it would be useless once it cooled off. She felt around various crawly, slimy, coarsely textured ingredients for some time before she gave. Yet another victory for the Waldoes. She eyed the crowd hopefully, deciding to try her luck with crowdfunding. “Does anyone have some newt tails? The Three-toed red, please.” An elderly witch near the front extended a calm looking iguana with matching headwear, who lay host to a myriad of tails that branched out haphazardly from each other. She winked roguishly at Merry from beneath her hat; it was the witch who had given her the first drink. “Just say the name of the tail you want, slowly and clearly, and Gerty here will sprout off as many as you need, won’t you my dear?” That said, Agatha began poking through the array of tails on the frumpy iguana, displaying the extent of her spellwork on the reptile. The movement released flashes of color from the reflection of vibrant scales, but fur, skin and spike alike draped from the many branches of Gerty’s magnificent rear. So many components in one place, it must have cost a fortune. Merry felt her heart pang with jealousy, but most of the regulars simply looked bored. “Four newt tails, Three-toed reds please!” Said Merry, looking into the beady eyes of the lizard. After a series of thoughtful heartbeats, understanding dawned and a small patch of smooth red tails sprouted off from the root of copper colored tailfeathers. “Alright, hold still now.” Agatha soothed as she slid a pair of clippers into her hand from the depths of a sleeve. She looked that Merry apologetically “This is his least favorite part. Sometimes it helps if you hold his front claws.” Merry needed no further prompting, after staring at the frightened but determined look on the reptile’s face as Gerty pointedly refused to look in the direction of Agatha and the shears, she knew she would do anything for this heroic little lizard. She grabbed hold of Gerty’s front claw, which dug painfully into the flesh between her forefinger and thumb as the clippers drew ever close… Snip “Thanks, Gerty.” Merry said, feeling a little guilty as she took the tails from Agatha. Maybe it was wrong, Merry thought, but she knew that anyone back at the College would sell everything they owned to have a lizard like Gerty, instead the herds of forty-seven different reptiles that roamed in pockets, handbags and pocket dimensions of the frazzled student body. The species of lizards, newts and salamanders varied depending on the School of magic studied, but reptile-amphibians shared several characteristics. Prized for the use of their tail they sported extreme levels of elusiveness as well as the name Waldo, by Academy tradition. Merry slid two of the tails silently into a pocket on her sleeve and dunked the other two in a rusted mug underneath the mixed drink monument. Maybe fortune would favor her on this trip, just like Professor Ottabard had written in his classroom brochure. She was already up two newt tails, and the request wasn’t even posted yet! She dropped a match to light the greasy liquid inside the mug, which immediately released a thick plume of smoke behind the display. Shades of red and white danced through the facets carved into the ice. These were chased by small globes of light floating from a different glass and illuminating the faceplate, a stained coaster with a tattered napkin spiked into the leather. After a few seconds the globes popped themselves on the spike, spilling into an embellished script that glowed in the dim lighting for her audience to admire. “T-h-e I-d-e-s o-f M-a-r-c-h” A portly knight read out slowly. “Hold on, what’s March ‘iding from anyway?” “I saw a man once, looked just like that olive,” declared Vern the Viking. “He kept fighting through it all, until one plucky soldier nipped ‘im somewhere with an arrow. Turns out his dear old ma had the whole family slather him in protection charms when he was younger, to make him live longer y'know? Must’ve missed a spot though, ‘cuz I remember he went down like an anchor.” The little witch holding Gerty didn’t say anything, but she smiled and gave Merry a little thumbs up. “Impressive, isn’t it?” Merry said proudly, excitement refusing to be dampened by the lack of culture shown by the Regulars. Emboldened by her success with the tails, she decided to let her sales pitch fly. They’d find out sooner or later anyway, she reasoned through alcohol’s comforting haze, so what was the harm? Merry lit a small jug from the left leg of her monument, releasing a tiny wyvern of vapor spiraling into the air around the bar. She drew her cloak close, then put on her best retailer’s voice. “Now, who among you brave adventurers would join me on my quest? I am off to slay a dragon, in the name of harvesting the materials necessary for Brad N. Ottabard’s First-Year course: Introduction to Musical Theory in Applied Alchemistry! All levels of experience are welcomed in the company, details will be posted on the board!” Her audience blinked as one. “Did she just say ‘dragon’?” ventured an orc in the back. Merry turned to the orc to answer, and caught sight of a pair of well-polished silver crescents, inscribed with a mural of a small figure slaying hordes of dragons, demons and other forces of darkness. The muscular green warrior immediately hid her curved dancing blades behind her back and began to edge away with great speed. “Don’t know anything about dragons, sorry. Lots of work to do, so busy.” “That’s the fifth one this week!” Vern the Viking complained, hefting his broad edged axe over his shoulder in disgust. “What are they even teaching at these schools?” “Dragons? We almost died dragging that warlock to a Moltenfang den just last week, didn’t we John?” A misshapen figure with an octopus beard complained to a beanbag sized sea urchin, who was a needle’s distance away. “Won’t be doing that again in a hurry” The urchin agreed. Mery couldn’t pin where the voice was coming from, but the response to her advertisement thus far was not as she’d hoped. “Not another First-Year!” exclaimed the knight. He had been struggling with the influx of culture into the bar, but was far more at home with this atmosphere of mob mentality. “Yes! I’m posting a complaint. They can’t expect us to give newbies a lift all the time. There’s work to do!” exclaimed a dwarf, holding a pint in each hand. “Now, don’t be making too much trouble for the newcomers everyone,” a new voice said, accompanied by the sound of scales on wood and a slight hiss. “After all, many of you were up on that table not long ago yourselves- and being far less respectable, I might add.” The crowd grumbled in embarrassed compliance with the arrival of a regular figure of authority: the bartender Maisie. Knowing better than to push their luck, the salt of the earth dispersed into their more routine hangouts, leaving Merry alone with the masked gorgon and the self-titled Judges. Vern the Viking saluted the gorgon bashfully. “Sorry Maisie, but you know how it is with the Guilds. Good luck kiddo, but you’ll have a hard time finding someone willing to take on a dragon so late in the season.” “The hatching festival was last month, and the Guilds sent out all their newly registered members… it was fun for a little while, but even we could see the Guilds were just taking advantage of us,” supplied one of the mustached knights, the tiny one in the purple platemail. He mounted his dragonfly with dignity, nodding at Merry as the insect buzzed towards the window. “Fine talent you have there, Miss.” The elderly witch simply pressed a small note into Merry’s hand. It read: Best of luck my dear! The Apothecary is always open, should you want to pop in and see ol’ Gerty again! I remember what the Academy was like, so do your best! Do stop by when you have a party together. Signed, Agatha. Beside it was a small candy, wrapped in red foil. Despite the disappointment settling in her gut, Merry smiled as she watched the old witch make her way to the door, Gerty’s tails spilling out from her bag and swaying as she walked. “I hope you won’t waste all those drinks you’ve made,” said the chilly voice of the bartender, Maisie. Snakes hissed from beneath her dark felt hat, which had a Guild emblem pinned into it. Merry eyed the snakes warily, but it was not her first time meeting a gorgon. Besides, the whiteness of the veil really brought out the blue in her dark scales. “Not a problem,” Merry replied glumly. “Care to share some with me? Halfsies, even? It’s a special offer.” A sharp grin peaked from the sides of the gorgon’s veil. Her snakes seemed to pick up on the gesture, rattling their long scales cheerfully as they crawled amongst their fellow locks. “Oh no, not me. Art it may be, but I don’t have the stomach for drinks mixed by an Alchemist of your talents.” “But how did you know I mixed-?” “You have impressed me with your work on the olive and your sleight of hand was cleverly done, but I saw what happened to the halfling in Davenport.” Maisie said, as she cleared the regulars drinks and slithered into the back room. “Then you already knew what I came here for” Merry said, defeated. “Well, cheers.“ Drinking alone wasn’t so bad, after all she did this every night. And she had come to terms with the risks and experiences that came with some of her more unexpected concoctions. But the company would’ve been nice. _______________________ First post! No rhyme or reason behind this, just playing around with some characters I would like to develop and hitting word count. Hope anyone that reads this enjoys! It's pretty bad right now, but it only gets better from here ((we hope)). Work by Tyler McGowan

#short story #fiction #original content #daily writing #self challenge #fantasy #my writing #ghostpaw

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