A lil’ story joint I’ve felt inspired to work on ever since I made my Sylvari thief. I’ll be continuing it whether it gets interest or not, but I just figured I’d post it here since there’s a fanfiction section.
Scroll down for the continuation!
Screenshot attached!
Open to any and all suggestions/critique, being new to the GW world and whatnot.
The green woman in the grey coat lets out a boisterous, almost rude sigh of satisfaction after another swig of her ale. Their people sure can put it away.
“This (hiccup) is alcohol? Mag- (hiccup) magnificent…”
The bartender, who’s also unfamiliar with the strange botanical woman, finally draws the line. “Alright, miss, I think that’s about enough. I’m not sure how your kind reacts to ale at all, let alone enough to get a fully-grown Norn drunk. Alright, your tab comes to-”
“LISTEN!” she says, slamming her hands down on the bar and almost slipping on some of the ale she’s spilled from the past six drinks, “My kind… there’s nothing wrong wi- (hiccup) nothing wrong with my kids. Kind. Now if you please good sir, another ale, please. Good sir.”
Even though she’s drunk, I can tell that her voice is smooth and her accent strong; she sounds like she could actually be human. She has leaves for hair, though, so she’s anything but human. Speaking of hair, I’m just now realizing that I can’t really see her face—her leaf-bangs cover a good deal of her eyes, and her hood conceals just about everything else.
Can she even see?
“Now Miss… Plant-girl, I appreciate the business-”
She slams her mug down. “MADAM Plant-girl to you.” She pauses, and a good deal of the bar looks over at her (at least, those that weren’t already staring). “… Dangit.”
The bartender sighs. He seems calm for dealing with someone so raucous, which is more than I can say for most of the bartenders I’ve seen in my day. It’s a good quality for a barkeeper or innkeeper to have, though, because there are all kinds of characters that show up.
“Madam Plant-girl, I do appreciate your business but I’m-”
“Boring,” she says in a faint voice with a chuckle.
“Pardon, madam?” The bartender leans in closer, probably not having heard what she said. Probably a bad idea.
“You’re BORING!” She stands abruptly and walks away—well, tries to. She stumbles and trips over her own coat, falling to the floor before she gets too far. Her hood comes off, and her species is revealed to everyone in the bar. For a while, there’s silence.
“Plants belong in the ground,” says some young woman from a nearby table. A group of people laugh.
I kinda feel bad for her.
I rise from my seat at the bar and walk over to her, kneeling to see if she’s okay. “Hey, um, Madam Plant-girl, you alright?”
She gets up onto her hands and knees and turns to look at me with her strange, yellow eyes. Aside from the alien-ness of them, they also seem… afraid. Is she afraid of the people teasing her?
It only makes sense. The more I look into those fear-filled eyes, the more sympathy I have for her. She’s the only plant-creature in this bar and some of the locals clearly don’t like her. It occurs to me that as strange as she may be, I’ve still got to stand up for her.
She turns her body toward me. Maybe she sees that I’m not an enemy; that I’m not like those others who made fun of her; that I’m willing to help h-
“BLEEEEEH!”
Scratch that. She just had to puke. On me.
It looks relatively normal, aside from some stuff that looks like tree sap.
… Am I really analyzing her vomit?
Speaking of analyzing, after looking up at her, I notice that her eyes are still locked onto me. They look even more desperate than last time, as if she’s pleading.
“Am… am I going to die?”
These tree-people haven’t been around long, so it makes sense that most of them wouldn’t be used to alcohol or vomiting.
The bar is too full of laughter from her vomiting on me for anyone else to have heard what she said. Right now, though, she’s doing anything but laughing.
I shake my head and place a hand on her shoulder. “No, you aren’t going to die. You just need some rest, some restraint, and more knowledge of the world.”
I say that, but I have a feeling that she won’t be able to rest—I have a feeling… that the bar’s about to get a whole lot livelier.
(edited by Cloaked.6734)