hit the floor
for @steddiemicrofic "cake" | 311 words | T
The story Steve’s telling isn’t even funny, but this random friend of Robin’s is laughing hysterically, and she’s going to set off his bitch-face if he’s not careful, so he shoves another bite of cake in his mouth. It’s—
“Dry as fuck,” Eddie mumbles in his ear, “is wedding cake always this nasty?”
Steve nearly spits the cake onto his plate.
“Oh,” she says, her eyes widening. “Oh, Eddie, I didn’t know your partner was Steve! Oh, I’m dumb.”
Steve and Eddie gape at her.
“Uh,” Eddie says, intelligently.
“Well, it was so nice to meet you, after hearing so much about you,” she says, and she disappears into the crowd.
Steve gapes after her. “Did she think we—”
“Huh,” Eddie says.
“Do we really give off that vibe?”
Eddie inches away from him.
“I mean, it’s not a big deal,” Steve says.
“Sure. Might ruin your game, though, if you were trying to pull tonight.”
“What game? I’m hung up on someone who’ll never see it.” He looks sidelong at Eddie. “They deserve better anyway.”
“Tell me about it.” Eddie doesn’t look up. “The guy I’m in love with would never be caught dead with the likes of me.”
“No way,” Steve says, even though it’s a punch to the gut, hearing that Eddie’s in love. “You can’t talk about yourself like that, Eddie. There’s someone out there who’s worth it. You’re one of the best people I know.”
“Hey, man, speak for yourself, you’re beauti—you’ve got a beautiful soul, okay?” Eddie finally lifts his head, catches Steve’s gaze, and the twinkling lights are like stars in his eyes. “That girl you like would have to be stupid not to realize that.”
“Girl? What girl?”
It takes another long moment for the conversation to click.
“Wait,” Eddie says.
“Oh,” says Steve.
The kiss is electric. The cake hits the floor.
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Dogstock are typical of what are often deemed the ‘evil’ races in many other fantasy works. They were created by some higher force to be slaves, they are carnivorous by nature, they resemble animals other than human in dentition and build. They growl and bite and walk behind.
The Uhasr (a dogstock culture) are descendants of such slave-infantry that was abandoned when the empire that used them to capture the steppes decided the land wasn’t so profitable after all, and more pressing matters drew their attention elsewhere. Like tools left spent on the ground, the unneeded, excess dogstock were left to survive on their own in Hochkiskuph. The native peoples, of course, did not welcome them any more, or see them any less as oppressors when the hand released the lead. To the Hochkiskuph peoples, the Uhasr are a predatory ghost, an echo that consumes them even in absentia. To the Uhasr, one human is much like another, differing in number and equipment, but never in essence. Uhasr are a species of wild animal with a human face. Humans are prey on two legs. Humans smoke and poison uncovered dens on principle, Uhasr abduct and consume men and women and children all the same.
A common trend I have noticed in media which aims to humanize monsters, is that it often relies on passivity. Humanity is contingent upon kindness. The monster that is A Person only so long as they are a harmless thing at heart, something which can be understood and befriended. Their violence is reluctant, their hearts noble. Grace is a concession to the dominated. Only the toothless beast, declawed and pinioned and caged, is one which has earned its personhood. The ontological enemy supersedes the ontological man.
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