Seat's Taken

Seat’s Taken Part 1
>Inna bar
>You’re new in Val Salia, and as such you’re pretty much on the bottom rung around here
>Hard day’s work in the hard day’s sun and there’s nothing you want more than to not-stand and have a nice, cellar-cooled pint of ale
>The people here are nice, friendly, no fights or commotion
>Odd for a bar
>You begin to wonder why when three Red Tunics walk in, guards the lot of them, and of something important no doubt, to warrant such mean-looking guards
>The Leader walked in first, bald fucker, hard as a sack full of nails
>Seriously, this guy looks like a toe that learned to scowl
>Next is Half-Face, who looks like he head butted a bonfire
>And then there’s…uh…what the fuck?
>They have to duck and turn sideways to get through the door, their huge inhuman legs tromped on the stone tiles, a tail trailing on the ground behind
>You turn back to your them and try to get back to your drink, trying desperately to ignore the big one’s foot steps as they drew closer and closer and closer, until Leader leaned in over your shoulder, not so much smiling as he was bearing teeth
>”Nice spot, innit?” He said, glancing at the stool with your ass in it. “Shame it’s taken, yeah?”
>You sputter something and start to get up when a hand roughly the size of a dinner plate settles on your right shoulder, the huge talon jutting from the thumb resting on the back of your neck, its way-too-sharp tip visible out the corner of your left eye
>Oh fuck
>”Be nice,” says a voice you could not fathom coming out of that toothy underbite. “There are four stools, let him stay.”
>”Whatever you say, Ish,” he says, shrugging, pulling up a stool and sitting down, the ground of groaning, straining wood signals her ample rear punishing the stool next to you
>It’s gonna be a long night


Seat’s Taken Part 2
>You spend the rest of your night staring into your tankard as the guards recount the day
>From what you’ve filtered from the conversation the creature next to you is called Isher, she’s a she, and she’s…quiet?
>You steal a glance now and then, now that she’s taken off her helmet you can definitely see her more feminine features.
>A hand claps you on the shoulder, it’s the Leader (you’re just gonna call him Toe-Face), he’s grinning in that gap-toothed way that scary hobos think is friendly. ”Hey! You’re out! Why dontcha let me buy you another!”
>You start to protest when he calls down the bartender and asks for a ‘usual’
>He dropped a flagon on the counter, pouring all four of you a frothy tankards
>Isher tries to push hers away when Toe-Face pushes it back ”Come on, Ish! You need to unwind, just a cup, eh?”
>Isher ponders the tankard in front of her, you wonder what the fuss is about, a critter her size wouldn’t even feel a whole pitcher, much less a single mug.
>Isher nods and pulls the cup back, sipping from it without much relish
>The night continues but now Half-Face and Toe-Face seem to have warmed up to you for some reason, asking you questions, telling you stories about all the wacky things they’ve seen and done, mostly with Isher
>”…And then Isher just walks over, grabs the General under the arms like he was a baby, walks him ‘cross the room and sets him in the corner!”
>”Like a time-out,” you say, buzzed enough to laugh out loud at the mental image of some bullheaded aristocrat being humbled like a toddler
>Half-Face chips in. ”Yeah! An’ Trademaster Veracroix just sits back, says: ‘Speak out of turn again, it’ll be a spanking.’”
>You all have a good laugh at this, Isher excuses herself and heads for the latrines, if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear she was tottering a little.
>”Ey,” Toe-Face says, smirking. “You’re Dinnish, ain’t ya?”


Seat’s Taken Part 3
>You spit your mouthful of ale back into the cup in surprise, you start to deny his assertion when he raises a hand, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, lad, no Beletan hunters here, not in Val Salia. But you are, ain’t ya? Yeah, you are. You Dinnish boys got a look about you. See, Isher there, she’s got a…thing for Dinnish boys, yeah? Got a love-blind fella what’s Dinnish. Pinin’ and clawin’ for him. Poor fool doesn’t even know. She’s a sweetheart, that one, gentle and warm as basket of puppies. If you knew her, you’d pull your hair out seeing her so torn up alla time.”
>You ask what’s all this got to do with you, dreading the answer
>He shrugged, tapping the bar top. “We noticed she’s been peekin’ at you. Prolly sees some of that Dinnish lad in you. Has a type, I guess. Anyway, we’d like you to talk her up a bit, be nice to her. We’re not askin’ you to bed her! Hell, I’m not fully sure how that’d even work! Just be friendly and chat her up some. She needs somethin’ to smile about.”
>Before you can ask, Two-Face chips in “If you don’t, we’ll break your legs and leave you for the Scavs.”
>Well, okay then
>Toe-Face smiles and pats you on the back. “That’s a lad!”
>It dawns on you that you’d be swimming in pussy if you had wingmen like these guys
>Isher returns from the latrine and sits down next to you. You sigh and empty your tankard, turning to her
>She looks over (and down) at you, looking somewhat confused
>You ask her how she is
>"I'mokaythanks," she mumbles, turning away from you and staring down her cup
>You shrug and look back at the other guards, they shoot you 'encouraging' glares and you pour yourself another draught
>In for a penny


Seat’s Taken Part 4
>Oh my GOD this chick
>It’s like blood from a stone!
>You try to talk about the hypodrome and if she has a favorite chariot team. Nope.
>What’s her favorite book? Can’t read so well
>What’s her sign? She mentions something about a sign outside her quarters but gets even quieter somehow!
>You’re starting to think those assholes set you up for a laugh when she says “Um, y-you’re from Dinnland, right? I mean, you were, uh, when it was a country and not, uh, n-not a country, oh, uh, sorry if that’s, uh, a touchy subject? Oh, it is, isn’t it? I’m sorry!”
>Well, yeah, it kind of is a bit of a sore spot. Your country was destroyed, your religion dispelled as a crock of shit, your friends killed or dispersed, your family slaughtered and the farm that was in your family’s name for generations was razed, fallowed, and reoccupied by a bunch of Beletan cocksuckers! Yeah, you’re kind of sore about that one
>You’re several thousand ales shy of actually saying any of that to her face much less in a tone you would call righteously indignant, so you suffice to mutter something about having been a freeman farmer, literate middleman between the magistrate and peasants
>Her eyes light up. “A farmer?”
>And we’re off to the races
>Turns out Isher LOVES farming, tending plants, nurturing livestock, caring for crops, you name it
>The flagon ‘magically’ appears between you and her, you take the hint and pour yourself and her a cup and get back to the conversation
>"Tomatoes are hard, every time I try to grow them they blight over and die!"
>You're drunk enough by this time to divulge religiously guarded farmer's secrets and tell her to rinse the seeds in water mixed with curcumin and to plant in clean soil
>thiskillstheblight.jpg
>She seems suitably impressed by this and gives you a look that makes your heart flutter, a look you haven't seen anywhere but the face of a pup
>Adoration
>This might not be so bad


Seat's Taken Part 5
>It’s a few hours later, and Isher’s gone through maybe four pints of ale
>And she is HAMMERED
>”You knowww what I llllike about youuu, Anon?” She slurs
>You confess that you don’t know, sipping your ale
>”Yourrrrrr butt!” She stifles a soused giggle and claps you on the back like a kicking mule
>You cough up your mouthful and blink in confusion, did she just say that she likes your ass?
>You look over at her to ask her to repeat herself, shocked to find that she seems to be on the verge of tears
>”I’m sorry, I probably made really uncomfortable,” she mutters, staring into her cup like it was a bottomless pit. “You probably don’t want to hear something like that from someone who looks like…me.”
>You try and play it cool, you slur something to the effect of getting complimented by a pretty girl is only fun when she means it
>”I do!” She exclaims, before realizing the actual gist of what you said and blushing. “O-oh…you can’t mean that…”
>You look her over; sure, she’s a monster-thing, but she’s got a nice face, pretty eyes, long thick legs, enormous tits, and an ass like a prize-winning pumpkin…
>Whoa okay
>It might be the ale talking, but she’s starting to look
>Good
>You reach over and grab her hand, dimly aware of how tiny it looks compared to hers, and tell her you meant it if she meant what she said about your ass
>She smiles at this, looking at you as she curled a strand of hair around her finger. “Well…what do you find pretty about me?”
>You go through the list, with some tasteful redactions, and cap it off with a ‘and you’re just a really sweet girl’ or something like that
>Her lips trembles and her eyes go huge and wet, for a moment you panic, wasn’t this supposed to cheer her up?
>She scoops you off of the stool and pulls you into a crushing embrace. “I’m sorry but…I just really needed to hear that!”
>Your butt is firmly in her lap as she squeezes you, she’s unintentionally turned you into a two hundred pound baby as she mashes your face and most of your torso into her massive bust
>ThisIsHowIDie.jpg
>”Uh, Ish?” You hear from the outside world, it’s Toe-Face. “I think you’re killing–”
>You quickly flash him a thumbs up and shoo him away, managing to pull enough face away from her titanic boobage to glare at him
>”Oh, uh,” he says, turning to Two-Face, grinning. “Okay, then.”


Seat’s Taken part 6
>Death is likely at this point
>But if your lungs can’t breathe titty, what good are they anyway?
>She’s really warm, her bountiful bosom a toasty, snuggly pillow.
>Her heart, which has to be the size of a melon, thuds away like a cozy metronome
>She’s so soft and comfy, you could just melt into her
>And she smells like…well, like onions and leather, but in a good way?
>Leather like an old trusty saddle
>And onions, like, the food thing that people eat
>Food is nice
>Isher is nice
>…Boooobiiiies…
>Suddenly she’s holding you out in front of her like a puppy, her eyes wide and expression dismayed. “Anon? Anon? Are you okay?”
>You gasp for air, chuckle, and half-jokingly ask her to put you back
>”I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry!” She babbles. “I’m always hurting things without meaning to, I’m just so big and clumsy and stupid!”
>You try to calm her down when Toe-Face butts in. “Don’t sweat it Ish! From the looks of things he wasn’t having too *hard* a time of it.”
>You both blink in confusion when Two-Face leans over and points down at the erection straining against your pants
>You blush and try to cover yourself up, Isher turns a whole new shade of red and looks away, flustered and bewildered
>She’s so cute and it’s REALLY not helping with the boner situation
>You apologize and try to tuck your traitorous erection away, you can tell she’s not used to this sort of thing
>She lets you adjust yourself for a moment before peeking back “Is…is the coast clear?”
>You nod
>”W-well, uh, that’s, uh…” she trails off, an awkward silence filling the air
>You sheepishly ask if she was going to put you down anytime soon
>She blinked, as though she had actually forgotten that she was holding a grown-ass man a foot off the ground
>She plunks you back on the stool and starts once more glaring a hole into the bottom of her tankard
>You scootch over and pat her on the back, taking a heavy swig from your cup
>You mutter something about your place and she turns to you, a sad smile on her face “Anon, I…I’d like to get to know you better. I need more friends! But…there’s someone, someone special. He’s going through some very tough times right now and he needs me, I think.”
>You turn back to your cup, nodding. She reaches out and grabs your hand. “Thanks for being someone to talk to.”
>You laugh and thank her for the ‘experience’
>She smiles
>That lucky bastard