Midnight Ramblings of a Drifter

Alright, alright, alright; I’ve probably got another story in this brain of mine. Lemme just root around and... Man, just look at that sky! You just can’t see stars like that in any human city, I’ve gotta say. These monsters have really got a nice.. wait— I’m getting sidetracked— what was I..? Oh, yeah, yeah!

Okay, so my last little ditty about that Kappa didn’t get your proverbial goat? I guess that’s understandable — I mean, all I did was just flip her on to her front — but! I’m pretty sure you’re all gonna love this next one.

So, once upon a time, there was a man named Yours Truly. Yours was polite, well-dressed, smart, handsome, well-endowed, smelled absolutely divine— no, I promise this is all relevant — and, most importantly, had a very close Human friend named Sofia Alkirk. Now, Yours was a Mage who — what? “What was Sofia like?” Oh, she was beautiful. Drop-dead gorgeous. I mean, she was an absolute head-turner. Everywhere she went, she got compliments from men and envious glares from women; just all around eye candy. And that’s not to say she wasn’t smart either! Y’know, she and I— I mean.. Yours— actually graduated from the same academy. Of course, Yours always did better than her in her studies, but the poor thing couldn’t help that I was just naturally superior in every way.

What? No, I didn’t say “I”. This story isn’t about me, you dunce, it’s about Yours. My God— speaking of stories, I think I was telling one before, wasn’t I? Now, where was I..?

Okay, so we’ve got Yours Truly and Sofia Alkirk. Both of them are graduates from the Whitewater Academy of Luminomancy. We put— they... put on shows for all the little people, stuff as small as card tricks to stuff as big as fireworks. Things were quaint for a long time. He started working up feelings for her, and he thought that she felt the same way. Everything was just peachy-keen.

Then, one dark and stormy night , Yours got a knock on his door. There were some mooks with funny masks standing in front of his house. “Yours Truly?” four girly voices said in ominous unison. “Yes?” Yours Truly said. Then WHAM! Door goes down in flames, Yours gets grabbed by eight powerful yet really well taken-care-of lady hands! He tried to defend himself with his signature move, Make-A-Copy-of-Yourself-Pretending-To-Punch-People-In-the-Face-to-Distract-Them, but those accursed vixens slapped him in silencing bindings! A real dirty trick, but it got the job done, and for that Yours was strangely impressed.

...

..Guh! This stuff tastes awful! I ordered water, right? How— how do you mess up water? Geez. You monster-folk May have pretty nights and perplexingly open-roofed taverns going for you, but not much else, huh? Buh!

Anyways.. Right, the story! Thank you. See, another thing you monsters have down: attention span. Well, maybe that’s just an issue I have actually, but— The story, right, right...

So, the mage-nappers, after successfully ‘napping the mage, teleport said mage to a mysterious, remote location. And when I say “remote”, I mean.. not actually that remote; it was just some cave in the hills, like, right next to Whitewater. But still mysterious nonetheless! And after getting their bearings, the mage-nappers reveal themselves to be..!

Some little girls.

No, I’m totally serious. Why are you laughing? I’m— I’m 100% serious when I say this: Yours Truly, our glorious hero, was whisked away.. heh.. to a cave in the middle of the night.. haha.. by a gaggle of teleporting schoolgirls with a hankering for kidnapping grown men of the magic-casting variety. This.. hah!.. This isn’t made-up... Damnit, now you’ve got me laughing too! I swear on my life this happened.

Any— ANYWAYS, if we’re all done.. giggling like children, I believe I was talking about giggling children...

Alright, so Yours Truly is in a big, scary cave, right? Flanked on all sides by little.. by little girls. Turns out— oh no! — these little girls are actually cultists delivering a fresh man to their monstrous “big sister”! She was an Apophis, by the way; really nice girl, was really into knitting which I personally understand entirely— I mean, I’ve never actually knit myself but I’ve seen other people knit and they’re always so happy— anyways! The Apophis— her name is Sunni— Sunni says that Yours Truly is her husband now. Yours Truly, naturally, vehemently disagrees, since he’s already got his eyes on pretty little Sofia back home.

Now, Sunni here is at an impasse: She could either act as a mature adult and accept that Yours Truly just really wasn’t that into her, losing out on a precious, valuable source of magical power and affection yet potentially gaining a great friend. OR, she could disregard Yours’ feelings and just take him right there on the spot. I mean, it’s not like he could’ve left on his own or anything. His hands were still bound, right?

You’re gonna love this next part.

Remember how I said that Yours’ specialty was throwing fake light constructs of himself around to play people for fools? Well. Guess what happens next?

Yeah, he doesn’t get to do that. Sunni just holds him down and rapes him. She’s really happy about it, Yours.. isn’t really too into it. There’s a lot of screaming and pleading for mercy, but nobody was really listening...

So, after the deed is done, and Yours is left with tear stained eyes, a bruised pelvis, and potentially irreversible Stockholm Syndrome due to the volatile amounts of venom Sunni pumped into his veins, Yours Truly just lay down for a really, really long time. He didn’t say anything to Sunni for days after the fact— those little girls went home after that, by the way. Sunni turned them into snakes, which was weird, and sent them on their way.

Uh.. Yeah. So, “The End,” I guess? I don’t really do this storytelling thing often so I’ve got no clue how to end this. You all enjoyed it, right? Of course you did. Especially after that twist ending, too! I saw those hands reaching under the table, you naughty ladies, you!

...That’s a good question, actually. Why would I tell you all this if I don’t tell stories often anyway? Dunno. Tonight just.. feels kinda special, I guess. Now scram, ya ne’er-do-wells. It’s late and I know you’ve all got homes to get to.

Fill to me the parting glass.