Elliot Rhodes sat in her well-worn desk chair at her computer, skimming her notepad for the umpteenth time, tapping her pen as her impatience grew. She waited for a story to flow onto her paper, a feat that wasn't foreign to her until last year, when a book she published got her into some scalding water with the nation's minorities and her publisher.
She was lucky that the publisher didn't drop her; she was a Milwaukeean college student, living just below the poverty line, and whatever small sales her books made was added to her meager income. So there Elliot sat, wishing that something would come up until she stood up and walked to her bedroom window, looking out into the alley that sat between the apartment she lived in and the condemned restaurant. Because it was night, Elliot didn't see what was going on in the alley at first glance, but a man's yelp of pain caught her attention and made her study the shadows that seem to be...making love? No; they were fighting, and there were more than two, maybe even up to five.
"No! Leave me alone!" A man yelled. "Help!"
They're attacking a defenseless man, Elliot realized. Although she feared getting hurt herself, Elliot still went to her kitchen, grabbed a couple of knives from her drawer, and went out the back door into the alley. She crept up to the scene, where she yelled and began slicing at whomever was nearby with no intent of killing. A couple of men fell to the ground, and the rest scurried away, shouting curses and threats to come back and rape and kill her.
Elliot panted, slumping to her knees and rubbing her temples. A man groaned behind her, reminding her why she came down here in the first place. She looked back and used what little light coming from the apartment to study the man, taking in every peculiar detail: he wore a dark grey sorcerer's robe, opened to reveal lime green tights, forest green blouse baggy against his svelte frame, worn leather sandals, and a golden chain mail matching his many rings and arm bands, everything wrecked and bloody from what he'd just suffered.
"Ah... are you okay, sir?" Elliot asked, trying not to laugh.
"I am... faring well," the man replied. When his vision and mind cleared, he stated, "Although, it is unbefitting of a warrior to have his life in the hands of a wench, I guess I owe you some form of gratitude."
What the hell? Elliot thought irrately. He must've been beaten up pretty badly to start talking to someone who saved his life like this. Don't let it bother you, dude.
"Well, what shall it be, milady?" the man asked. He smirked. "Would servicing your desires suffice?"
"What the HELL are you talking about?!" Elliot spat with disgust.
The man flinched. "Well, whenever wenches meet such a fair man, they do anything to win his affections, especially a man of high military rank and royal lineage."
"Uh, yeah, here're a couple of key points for you to learn here: one, women aren't 'wenches' anymore, we're women, two, seeing as how I'm not even swooning at the sight of you, let alone dropping my panties for you, I guess you're over-exaggerating your 'fairness', and three, considering the fact that you had your butt handed to you, I'm gonna say that either royalty isn't big in this part of town or you need a CAT Scan to be sure your brain wasn't beaten to mush." Elliot paused, breathing through her nose to calm herself. When she didn't hear from the weirdo for a while, she asked, "Are you okay?"
"I am, yes," he said.
Another silence as Elliot tossed her knives into the dumpster and helped the man to his feet.
"What's your name, anyway?"
Elliot grunted, not believing that the scrawny man was much heavier than he looked.
"Why tell such an unruly we- woman like you my name?" He asked.
"Because this unruly woman saved you from certain death when she could've just stayed in her nice apartment and continued her book," Elliot retorted. "Also, seeing as how this unruly woman is taking you into her apartment to help you, it would be courteous for you to introduce yourself."
"Hm, I see you've changed your mind quickly," the man purred.
When she finally understood what the man was referring to, Elliot let him fall to the ground and stalked off, half-hoping those men would come back to finish him off.
"I'm Pakka," the man half-groaned.
"What?" Elliot said, returning to -reluctantly- help the man walk to her apartment.
"I'm Pakka, Prince Pakka of Atlantis..."
Hope this was good! :-)
She was lucky that the publisher didn't drop her; she was a Milwaukeean college student, living just below the poverty line, and whatever small sales her books made was added to her meager income. So there Elliot sat, wishing that something would come up until she stood up and walked to her bedroom window, looking out into the alley that sat between the apartment she lived in and the condemned restaurant. Because it was night, Elliot didn't see what was going on in the alley at first glance, but a man's yelp of pain caught her attention and made her study the shadows that seem to be...making love? No; they were fighting, and there were more than two, maybe even up to five.
"No! Leave me alone!" A man yelled. "Help!"
They're attacking a defenseless man, Elliot realized. Although she feared getting hurt herself, Elliot still went to her kitchen, grabbed a couple of knives from her drawer, and went out the back door into the alley. She crept up to the scene, where she yelled and began slicing at whomever was nearby with no intent of killing. A couple of men fell to the ground, and the rest scurried away, shouting curses and threats to come back and rape and kill her.
Elliot panted, slumping to her knees and rubbing her temples. A man groaned behind her, reminding her why she came down here in the first place. She looked back and used what little light coming from the apartment to study the man, taking in every peculiar detail: he wore a dark grey sorcerer's robe, opened to reveal lime green tights, forest green blouse baggy against his svelte frame, worn leather sandals, and a golden chain mail matching his many rings and arm bands, everything wrecked and bloody from what he'd just suffered.
"Ah... are you okay, sir?" Elliot asked, trying not to laugh.
"I am... faring well," the man replied. When his vision and mind cleared, he stated, "Although, it is unbefitting of a warrior to have his life in the hands of a wench, I guess I owe you some form of gratitude."
What the hell? Elliot thought irrately. He must've been beaten up pretty badly to start talking to someone who saved his life like this. Don't let it bother you, dude.
"Well, what shall it be, milady?" the man asked. He smirked. "Would servicing your desires suffice?"
"What the HELL are you talking about?!" Elliot spat with disgust.
The man flinched. "Well, whenever wenches meet such a fair man, they do anything to win his affections, especially a man of high military rank and royal lineage."
"Uh, yeah, here're a couple of key points for you to learn here: one, women aren't 'wenches' anymore, we're women, two, seeing as how I'm not even swooning at the sight of you, let alone dropping my panties for you, I guess you're over-exaggerating your 'fairness', and three, considering the fact that you had your butt handed to you, I'm gonna say that either royalty isn't big in this part of town or you need a CAT Scan to be sure your brain wasn't beaten to mush." Elliot paused, breathing through her nose to calm herself. When she didn't hear from the weirdo for a while, she asked, "Are you okay?"
"I am, yes," he said.
Another silence as Elliot tossed her knives into the dumpster and helped the man to his feet.
"What's your name, anyway?"
Elliot grunted, not believing that the scrawny man was much heavier than he looked.
"Why tell such an unruly we- woman like you my name?" He asked.
"Because this unruly woman saved you from certain death when she could've just stayed in her nice apartment and continued her book," Elliot retorted. "Also, seeing as how this unruly woman is taking you into her apartment to help you, it would be courteous for you to introduce yourself."
"Hm, I see you've changed your mind quickly," the man purred.
When she finally understood what the man was referring to, Elliot let him fall to the ground and stalked off, half-hoping those men would come back to finish him off.
"I'm Pakka," the man half-groaned.
"What?" Elliot said, returning to -reluctantly- help the man walk to her apartment.
"I'm Pakka, Prince Pakka of Atlantis..."
Hope this was good! :-)