In the Belly of the Beast

Slowly, the Puck smiles, nodding slowly. "A delicate and fitting answer. You do your line proud. As for where that line springs from....well, there is tell of the man called the Great Bard, and the Great Bard had a boy. Now this boy died, and the Great Bard nearly lost his reason with it. He went a-wandering, and in his loss, he wandered beneath a hill. There, he met the Lady of Imbas, who was entranced by the fire within him. With her body, with her magic, she rekindled it. And the story says that a girl child was born in the fire between them. If I were to make a guess, I would say that the Lady of Imbas is the one you seek." He sips his drink. "I give you this gift in good faith, son of the Sidhe. Remember that the time will come when I ask for a gift in return." Then he turns to the bartender, holding up his glass for a refill.

Up on the platform, two Foireaux take the stage, movements slow and indolent, as catlike as their deep yellow eyes. Their midriff baring tops are mostly silver, with black cloth holding the plates over their breasts together. They dance around eachother like sex incarnate, and as they dance each of them draws their claws slowly, slowly down their partner’s flesh, and licks the blood from shallow wounds, smiling all the while, their yellow eyes glowing.
Something moves behind me, and I turn sharply. What was that? After a glance, I turn back. Nothing there. Still, I can feel my nails digging into my hands. I have got to calm down. Why am I so nervous?
Because this is a predator’s watering hole, whispers a panicky little part of my mind. And you look like prey.
I swallow, my throat tight. "Let's go." I murmur to Djhuety.

i dodge the punch and steal the cane from a nearby elderly man and as he falls to the ground i say "oh its on!".

The smile I have at Ignacy's comment falls away as a creature lumbers over, were it not for the endowment of her chest I would not have know the many headed being was female, Her many clawed hands lift and casually tossing aside the beings attempting to dog pile Ignacy. I can feel a low growl in my throat as she says out "leave Pretty man alone"

i turn around and say in a suave manner "hello lu-" as i gaze upon the horror i run after the trannies out of the door shouting "hey wait for me!".

I frown, the contact broken. Its more then I had, and I'm grateful; I lay a hand of coins on the counter, indicating the Puck. The tender nods and palms the coins. Then my attention is captured by the turmoule of the room. I take Liv by the shoulder and begin to pull her around the perimeter of the room, far from the combat at its center.

I cant stop laughing as the Giantess Lumbers after Ignacy her single stride at least equal to 4 of his. "well my friend you are in for an interesting game of cat an mouse, another Ale Please?"

My heart is beating in my throat. I pull away from Djhuety's hand. I’ve got to get a breath of air that’s not scented with sweat and sex and feral animal musk. I need the open air. I’ve got to get out of here, out of this trap with too many eyes watching. My feet begin to walk, faster and faster. They’re staring at me, all those eyes, all analyzing me, after me. I hate being watched, hate this. My feet pick up speed, my breath ragged. I want out.

attempting to put on a brave face i shout after the trannies "im not done with you guys!" while waving my cane around to hide the fact that im scared shitless.

I grip Liv's elbow tighter, whispering "Don't run, whatever you do" I look out over the circle milling in the center of the room; I think I saw Ignacy break for it, but the swirl of animalism in the center appears to be growing, if anything, more ferocious. I get to the door and push it open. "Lets go... walk..." I grimace as the sound of feral howls echoing from the open door and I duck into the shadows.

Heart pounding, throat tight with fear, I try to run, but the light is fading, fading to black all throughout the bar, and I am in darkness thick as the black beneath the earth. In the darkness, things move. Snorts, chuckles, howls, whispers ring me. I drop into a crouch, pulling my knife. The sounds grow louder, closer. My breath is coming ragged and fast, my heart beating like a rabbit’s. Faces flash in the dark, leering smiles, faces full of pure hate, voices whispering.
“Eldritch bitch.”
“Evil.”
“Taint on the blood.”
“Weak.”
“Kill it.”
Something slaps the back of my head, and I dance back. Hands are reaching out on all sides now, grasping, clawing. One touches my shoulder, another my back, and I snarl, lashing out with my sharp teeth, hissing loudly. “Stay back!” I shriek, baring my teeth, “Get away from me!” I turn, baring my teeth in terror. But I can’t watch them all. I’m completely alone, alone like always, and they’re closing in. Something hits me, and I cry out, lashing in its direction. “Stay away!” I snarl, but even to me my voice sounds terrified. This has happened before, these terrible times when I’d been cornered and beaten. I’d sworn I’d never let it happen again, not anymore. But now they’ve got me. I’m trapped.

im fast but i dont have the legspan of a troll, as the troll drags me by my legs back into the bar i scratch at the ground and scream for help it says "silent pretty man were going to have snuu snuu" i start crying.

Trapped, trapped, and too weak to fight my way out, alone. Everyone has abandoned me. I put out a hand, but the fingers are short and the arm is furred. I try to cry out, but only the tiniest mewl escapes my lips. I’m a kit, and I’m abandoned. They’ve abandoned me, because kits born malformed are supposed to be left to die. I’m weaker than a kitten, barely able to crawl. Blows rain down on me. A fist reaches in , and I scream, the high wild scream of an otter in terror, and lash out. But I’m small, so small and weak. And all the time the crowd is getting closer, closer, hands and fists and boots. And why shouldn’t it have me? I have no right to live. I am not strong enough to live, not worthy. I should just lay down, lay down and let it take me.

the mead is smooth as I drink it making me pretty sure it isn't really mead. My friends conversation with the puck seems to have gone well. right up until they are standing back to back. Lashing out at the thin air. commotion at the door shows me Ignacy being drug back in by his legs, and i don't want to know what is in the "bachliorette's dream" bag. another man comes in almost quietly behind them, his hair is salt and pepper and he is wearing a long white trench coat. the man slowly walks up to the bar. I have my suspicions about who it is, best to be on guard and ready to grab my friend and run like hell, even the giantess has stopped dragging ignacy in favor of holding him aloft to watch what happens

i notice a bottle of rum on the floor and grab it as i pass it, i rip some fabric from my suit and puts it in the bottle, as i fumble for my lighter i shout "Damn you! you should have let me bring my sword!" i throw the molotov at the back of the troll and as it drops my leg i start running out of the bar shouting "screw you guys! im going home!" with an angry burning troll after me.

the giantess's burning attire reveals some piercings no human man should ever have learned about, as she chases after pretty man, apparently saving the bar as she tries to either ravage or kill ignacy possibly both.

I rail and scream my tiny scream against my attackers. But then, I feel another presence wrap around me, like the warmth of holt-mates, like the arms of a friend. A voice is speaking in my ear. “You need to get ahold of your fear. Fight it. Do it now!” I raise my head. Fear. That’s all this is. Fear. A fear illusion, so cunningly done that I hadn’t even seen it coming on. I understand now. I can still see only the encircling crowd, but instead of cowering, this time, I step forward, and I am no longer a kit, but full grown, fast and sleek and hard, then I stand on two legs and am a woman, my knife in my hand. I bare my teeth. “Get out of my head.” I snarl.
And just like that, I’m back in the bar, gasping, bent over, every muscle in my body trembling. A man is leaning over me, a man with dark hair, dark eyes, and a kind, tired smile. “All right?” he asks carefully, as if expecting me to explode. I swallow, and nod. “Yes, I’m fine now. Thanks.”
“Any time.” the man says offhandedly, then turns back to the barkeep, who’s dropped looking human and now towers over us, a great thing with a face like a horse’s skull topped with a ram’s horns, a body huge and stretched and covered in scaled black skin. The man stares up at it with an almost bored expression, tucking his hands into his white overcoat. “You and your business associates have been feeding off your patrons for a few months now, killing them by inches, locking them inside their own fears and paranoias until they can’t stand it, and that’s going to stop. Now there’s two ways this could go. Either you leave the Nightside peacefully, or we do it the hard way. Guess which way I’d prefer?” The thing screams, high and shrill, and lunges for the man in the white coat. The man smiles a dangerous smile, and his mind, for a moment, glows incandescent white, brighter than a lightning bolt. The phouka screams, high and tortured, and its body goes through a messy flashing of hundreds of different shapes. With every change it devolves, going through simpler and simpler forms, until it’s only a nasty grayish goo on the floor. The man smiles wryly. “I should really give up on trying to reason with them. Never works.” Then he turns. “All right, listen up people, and everything else. I’m John Taylor, and by the power invested in me, mostly by me, I declare this bar officially closed. Everybody out, please, quick as you like.”
In the mass exodus for the exit, I’m dropped by the man called John Taylor onto a barstool, Djhuety gasping beside me, his head in his hands. With a jolt of shame, I notice that Liam’s hand has deep bite marks in it and Djhuety’s face is scratched. I must have gotten out of control. Still panting, I watch John Taylor nod to the Puck.
“Hello again. Thought you were in Shadow’s Fall these days.”
“Oh, on occasion I still return, for the entertainment. The Nightside is so very intriguing, after all.”
“Oh yes. It’s certainly full of surprises.” John Taylor says wryly. Then he glances at us. “You lot have somewhere to go? You two look like you need a bit of a kip.” he says, looking at Djhuety and I. The Puck looks over us appraisingly. "Next time, better guards, children." Then he turns, and walks slowly from the bar.

I look down at my hand where Liv bit it and shake my head, hitting a knee I pull her so she is piggy-back on me before i stand. "Dehjuty i can't carry you aswell, Thankyou Mr. Taylor." before I start walking, getting out of the bar we are treated to the sight of Ignacy jumping from car to car as the giantess tries to follow. I feel bad for her when the Limo pulls up beside her and opens it's gaping maw, Ignacy is just barely able to jump to the other sidewalk. I whistle impressed

Shakily, I rise to my feet and follow Liam... My nightmare, my fear was disjointed, almost dreamlike, and I find myself unsteadied by it. I thought we had gotten out, then... I shake my head and walk after the two, straightening my coat as defiantly as I can manage.

I shake my head as we cross the street, meeting up with Ignacy on the other side. I'm still breathing hard and feeling shaky, but I'm unharmed. "Liam, let me down, I can walk."

i walk up to them breathing hard saying "next time i dont care where we are going i am bringing my damn sword".

I smile and let her down "glad it gave ya a moment to get your head on straight, what happened to you two?" concern touches my voice. before chuckling at ignacy "I am sure"

It's a slow and uncomfortable buisness walking back through the Nightside, and a great sense of relief washes through me as I open the door to our flat. I'm so tired, and sore. I drop onto the couch. "What a hell of a night."

i lie down on the floor and put myself in the fetal position "you werent almost raped by a giant".

"And you didn't get dropped into a conceptualization of your deepest fears." I say, my eyes closed, "Though I suppose the giantess comes close."