#pre-nightmare

[shattereddreamsau]

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[biohazardous-rage-blog]

meuleon

Kurloz had been up for hours cleaning up his hive. He knew Meulin would be over soon and wanted to make sure everything looked nice.

It was quite an adventure. He ended up finding things he thought he’d lost and things in bizarre places. He carefully arranged all the little items from various myths, the grimoires he collected, and the silly juggalo items.

Then, he waited.

[dimmelsodo]

that makes me sick, ~800 words

"It's a really nice place, I promise!" The Upper Wards, nice and bright. The only dancers here were on the public floor because they wanted to be. The tables were widely-spaced, so the servers could easily weave through them without being in the reach of someone's arm. It was even Talent Night, and they sat through some amazing elcor karaoke before a human woman got up on the makeshift stage, setting up a portable self-anchoring pole.

"Oh!" Sirrit didn't recognize her as a colleague, but he leaned forward in interest. She wasn't dressed in the typical dancer gear, but a stretchy, form-fitting top and skirt over shorts. The music started, and she hooked her leg around the pole dramatically.

Sirrit oohed and ahhed, impressed by her seamless routine. She flipped and twirled and spun, defying gravity as she flowed between moves. It was after she held herself parallel to the pole, upside-down and using only her arms, that he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.

Dimmel was leaning on his elbows, hand over his eyes. "This is ridiculous," he muttered, voice so harsh and low it was nearly a growl.

Sirrit fidgeted, sneaking a nervous glance over at the graceful woman on the pole. Dimmel hadn't seemed bothered by the dancers in Chora's, but he hadn't looked twice at them, either. Was he disgusted when he had to look close? He did know what Sirrit's job was, but he hadn't said anything about it before. Had he been too disturbed to comment in the darkness of Chora's?

"Is...is it that wrong?" he asked hesitantly. Dimmel tilted his head without actually turning, cracking one eye open to fix Sirrit with a confused stare.

"Is what wrong?" He started to turn his head, but froze and closed his eyes again instead, pressing his lips tightly together and making an odd, muffled groan. Sirrit's personal anxiety immediately melted into fear for Dimmel.

"Oh geez, are you having another--?" His hands fluttered uncertainly, not sure if Dimmel needed an escort out, but Dimmel only held up his hand.

"Is she still doing the--the upside-down walking thing?"

"Um...what?" Sirrit looked back at the woman on the small stage. "No? She's kinda doing a techno-inspired routine." 'I like it', he was about to add, but held his tongue.

Dimmel sighed, hand still covering his eyes. "Better not," he muttered. "I've had one drink, I can't believe watching a woman pretending to walk through the air is triggering my motion sickness."

"Oh? OH! I mean, oh--do you need to go to the bathroom?" Sirrit felt a little bad for the instant burst of relief when his new friend admitted he was about to puke, but the fact that Dimmel wasn't disgusted with the very idea was a comfort he couldn't quite articulate. Dimmel wasn't the kid of guy who went in clubs or saw strippers, he could tell--even if he used to fight vorcha sometimes. Even plenty of people who did come to clubs and see people like him didn't seem to live them very much, even though they were the ones who decided to come there.

"No, I should be alright so long as nobody tries to convince me that gravity is out of order again in the next ten minutes. But--some water would be appreciated. I don't want to yell for a server, being loud makes my own head rattle." Sirrit nodded, forgetting Dimmel couldn't see him, and bounded off to the bar for a drink. Mentioning it was to settle someone's stomach got him to the front of the line--nobody wanted to be cleaning that up. By the time he brought it back the woman was leaving the stage amid cheers and--even in a place like this--a few catcalls.

"...I liked the routine," said Sirrit as he watched Dimmel slowly nurse the water. He was hunched over, probably to avoid catching a glimpse of the neon piping on the walls, but as least his eyes were open now.

"She seemed skillful, from what I saw. I don't know a thing about dancing, but it takes a lot of upper body strength to suspend yourself like that. There is one thing I have to say." Dimmel was frowning at his glass, and Sirrit tensed involuntarily.

"If you want to do that walking thing, please don't do it in front of me. I can't promise I won't make a mess if I've had more than one drink."

A blinding grin split Sirrit's face, and he swung his feet happily. "Okay, no breaking gravity. It's a promise~!"

[major-kirrahe]

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"I don't know the first thing about music," Kirrahe said, scratching behind his horn. A small smile played over his face as he regarded the bright pink salarian fondly. "But I do know you're one of a kind, Sirrit. I don't think there's another salarian out there in the galaxy who has what you have. And it's not because you're pink, or because of your horns." He hadn't known the Sirrit very long, but he had always considered himself good at reading people. Salarians especially.

"You're observant. You're kind. You're bright, and I don't think you give yourself enough credit." He took a breath through his nose, his smile grew wider. "Someone's going to see that, and you'll be playing with the best of them in no time."

"And whether you know it or not you've touched a lot of lives. In big and small ways."