The rain was unrelenting.
...That was putting it mildly.
The torrent was probably causing some crazy religious cults to build giant wooden ships in the hopes of surviving the flood they just knew was coming. It was that rainy.
But I digress.
The bar stood tall before me, a refuge from the downpour, as well as the worries of the world. Not that I had a lot, but I'll never complain about being numb from drink.
A sigh escaped me. Looking up, the sky couldn't be seen through the sheets of rain pouring down on me. Some say it falls on everyone evenly, but I knew the truth. Those who enjoyed it, even those who didn't care about it didn't suffer near as much as those who hated it. I would've stood lost in my own thoughts forever if not for my own voice interrupting me.
"You must be fun at parties."
"Heh." Jerking back to reality, a small chuckle passed my lips. I reached into my jacket and pulled out a cigar for my mouth and a matchbox for my hand. "That's just it. The party doesn't start..." The match flared to life, kept burning by the protective embrace of the hand that created it. The out-of-its-element flame coaxed the cigar to light, despite the storm's every effort to see me drown on dry land.
A small puff of ash leaves my mouth. "...'Till I show up." The bottom of my boot connecting squarely with the bar door announced my presence in a way that required no introduction of who I was and what I was there to do. The shouting that followed was just for flair.
"Listen up you shit-faced piss-peddler, the world's drowning out there, but you have the honor of letting me drown on your pitiful excuse for booze, and speaking of, if you don't have four bottles of rye whiskey popped and ready for drinking by the time I get to my spot you'll be wearing them!"
As my waterlogged boots squelched heavily on the wooden floor, small puddles marking my progress, I took in the familiar sight of the bar. Dark, dank, and quiet. There were two parts to the bar, the bar itself, and the open area with circle tables for the weaker drinkers, complete with a few windows. Just in case your lukewarm swill bored you, or something. Important things aside, there was also a couple standing near the doorway. If they had payed any attention to my entrance, it was fully returned to each other now. The man was handsome, with dark green hair cropped just out of his eyes and not far past his ears. He was tall. Taller than me by an inch or two, so he was tall. The woman stood maybe a head shorter than him, and in addition to sporting light pink hair that seemed to glow despite the preferred dreary atmosphere, she also sported a tail and wings that were hard to see in the gloomy torchlight, but were noticeable enough.
"Hmph." Another small puff of ash accompanied my vocal disapproval. It used to be an anti-monster settlement, but recently they marched through and converted the largest dissenters. Well, the most vocal, I should say, I'm still here. There was a battle, and in case you didn't figure it out, we lost. No details, I don't know much about it, I must have been away at the time. It felt as though it happened overnight, though.
Refocusing my attention on the two, wow, they're near the door, I haven't been walking very fast. If that booze isn't there with all this time I've given him... Oh yeah, the couple. Taking another puff from my cigar, I let softer feelings get the best of me. After all, I couldn't let bias prevent me from congratulating the happy couple. As a passed the monster, I didn't know what she was, I preformed a small hop forwards to gain momentum for my drenched arm to achieve maximum velocity and stinging power as it collided with her ass for a very audible, "WHAP!"
"KYAAAAAAA!" In addition to raising a chuckle out of me, her scream tilted her head upwards, revealing a small set of horns. Her green-haired friend didn't have as good of a sense of humor, if the rolled-up sleeves and quick steps towards me were anything to go by. This'll take three. With deft hands a match was struck and the cigar in my mouth had made two new friends.
"What's your problem, bud!?" Rough hands grabbed my collar and left only my toes enjoying the stability the ground provided. At least we could resolve this issue eye-to-eye now.
"Bud?" My response was stated questioningly, but expected no answer. I inhaled deeply on the tricigar and held the burning cloud for a moment to enjoy the familiar sting in my lungs. I then released the calming dust-gray ash into his face, which had no time to avoid it with the attempt at intimidation causing the distance between our faces to be uncomfortably small.
Vehement gags accompanied my short fall to the wooden floor. Good thing they weren't mine, nor were the hands formerly wrapped around my collar, now excercising a much more gentle hold on their owner's throat. The doubled-over stance and the choking coughs probably made my point... But I wasn't known for half-assing things.
"Bud," I said again, this time releasing the heavy cloud towards the rafters. "I wouldn't be your 'bud' if you were the only man on earth with drink to spare, and all I had to do to get a bottle was be your 'bud', 'bud'." With a sound that was between a "thunk" and a "squish", my water-laden boot collided heavily with his face, planting the bent-over figure face-up on the wooden floor and pride face-down in the dirt.
Sucking in the sweet gray nectar with every earned chuckle, my moment was interrupted by a loud 'pop!' and an uncomfortable amount of pressure on my right cheek... Yes my face, I wouldn't have reacted as I did if it wasn't.
The other one, that crazy bitch slapped me.
Though it wasn't painful, I was caught off-guard and a casualty was suffered. With great purpose, I leaned down and picked up the remains of the first cigar of the day. Running my tongue through my teeth confirmed the other two intact and in place. Looking up at me was a face that was just so... Disgusting. Cute. Defiant. That was what was cute. Raising the hand holding my departed comrade, I spoke in a special rasp that was best achieved with the tricigar.
"I got your ass, so I won't be taking your life for that little stunt. But you wanted 'im so bad, you can have 'im!"
Never claim me to be a man without social graces. Not only did I honor common courtesy by flicking the dying cigar butt into her face with my thumb and middle finger, my charm and charisma truly shone through by nailing her in the eye and making sure that my middle finger remained erect and facing her direction as I walked toward my spot at the bar. A familiar voice welcomed me and told me to make myself comfortable as I sat down.
"I told you never to come here again."
The bartender was laughable, not only was he the most passive individual that ever served alcohol, he also sported a ridiculous up-do that seemed to get uglier the longer you stared at it, the problem being he was so damn ugly you couldn't help but stare. Tearing my eyes away from the sight, four familiar bottles of the rye whiskey I so loved sat in front of me, ready for drinking. A rasping chuckle escaped my lungs as I thanked him the way he knew to expect.
"You dumb fuck, look at this place, you wouldn't have any business without me."
His response was strengthened by the couple leaving, known to me only by the squeak of the door opening and closing just as quickly. Still a pitiful excuse. "There's only no business because people know YOU show up."
"I out-drink all of them anyway. You're an idiot, and I'm empty." I sent the voided bottles crashing to the floor to make sure he understood the importance of what I just said. The bartender made a face as if to speak up, but regained his sanity and began opening new bottles of whiskey. After a brief moment I somehow managed to tolerate without glass in my grip, four new bottles sat in front of me, awaiting the fate of their predecessors. Pay attention, this is how I knock them out so fast. I scoop up the bottles by their necks, holding them firmly inbetween my fingers. With a firm grip, I lift their square ends toward the sky, melting a little as liquid fire kisses the inside of my mouth and makes sweet love to my throat on the way down. The burn is the perfect way to follow up the acidity of the tobacco's smoke. My head now buzzing with pleasurable inebriation, I grab a fist full of gold coins from my jacket and throw them carelessly on the counter as I walk towards the door. As they clatter I swear as though I hear the barman shout something after me. Probably just the booze whispering sweet nothings.
As I leave the pleasant din to return to the rest of the world, the same downpour that I had escaped from greeted me as I walked the path home. Pushing through the rain as if it was a beaded doorway that never ended, I thought for a bit. Booze does some crazy things, but I love it anyway. I realized the rain hadn't ceased a drop since I had done my daily drowning. Thinking further, (I really pounded it back I guess,) I remembered the rain fell on me the same as it did before I entered the bar.
The rain hadn't ceased a drop during my trek. The sky remained a dark, beautiful gray akin to smoke from the tricigar that had burnt out a while ago, may it rest in peace. Despite the darkness, I knew it was only halfway to evening. Inhaling deep against the sky's best efforts to drown everything outside of its domain, I took in the sight of my home nestled in the mountain path, the wood clashing against the rock around it. A veritable shack, it boasted one square window and about fourty square feet. There were rooms in other people's houses that boasted more space. It wasn't a single room either, a wall seperated the kitchen (a narrow hallway with counters on either side, it was wide enough for one person to fit through at a time) and the living area (everything else, which was mainly used for sleeping. Even if the bartender didn't put his foot down at overnight drinkscapedes, I was near-certain that it would be seen to a night asleep at the bar would not see my eyes open again. It's dangerous to be this charming.) The space near the only entrance to the shack connected the two rooms. No door separated them, as not only was it money that could go towards booze, it was completely unnecessary in a house that supported only one occupant.
In addition to having the window to light up the food prep area and part of the living area, the kitchen had knives and bread populating the counters. Cheese was a delicacy, but booze was a necessity, so no cheese was present. The living area was covered in numerous coats that had not been wrapped in my embrace for years, instead now serving as makeshift mattresses, along with legitimate blankets and sleeping pads. A single table poked itself out of the mess just enough to fit crossed legs underneath it, used mainly if I was feeling especially formal. With the layer of fabrics and other clothing materials so thick, I was uncertain if I had a dirt or wood floor in that area. I didn't worry about Devil Bugs, as there was no basement nor attic for them to hide in. It would be a little too much digging to make a basement for themselves, and not enough floor for an attic, as the rafters and ceiling were clearly visable, perhaps eight feet off the floor. It was truly a bachelor's first shithole.
And I loved every inch of it. My home was located in the mountains, where I didn't get any sentient visitors. Any person who was dumb enough to visit me was not worthy of the descriptor, "sentient".
Despite the copious amounts of booze attemping to replace the blood in my veins, there was no struggle with the lock on the doorknob. The door opened wide.
"Son of a bitch."
There one was. Some dumb creature had found her way into my house, my abode, my sanctuary. Kneeling down in the kitchen, it looked as though she was going to rest where it was arguably cleaner than my own choice of sleeping area. Though facing away from me, I could tell she was small, young, maybe seven or eleven or twelve or eight or nine. Pretty sure she wasn't ten though. She had long brown hair which was tied in a ponytail, the hair being loose aside from the initial band near the base of her head. Her body was draped in some form of tight green clothing, and her arms, legs, and tail were covered in matching green scales. Somehow I noticed all of that despite the large green knapsack on her back.
"Hey!" My voice boomed throughout the cabin, causing her to jump and perform an about face. Her violet eyes focused on me while my own drifted and quickly looked away from her chest. Almost a B-cup. I stand by my age estimates though, monsters develop faster than humans do.
The girl's lips quivered as she spoke. "I- I was just-"
"Just what?" She had soft features, and large, honest eyes, a mixture that would not hesitate to tell you a secret, but at the same time would keep one of yours to her dying breath. She had a brow that emphasised the eyes they rested above, and round cheek bones that seemed to compliment it. Her lips were a perfect size, noticable when you focused on them, not standing out, but by no means unmentionable. Every feature seemed to lead you to another feature, the lips to the cheeks, the cheeks to the brow, the brow to the eyes, the eyes to the webbed lizard ears, which should've been repulsive, but instead were only... Charming.
"I- the rain, it-"
"Buh buh buh buh- Knock it off! You have no excuse! What did you want? What were you looking for!?" My gaze settled on the counter where I had my loaves of bread sitting out. Four yet remained from when I had left for the bar. She hadn't taken any. Her face tightened as though it pained her to achieve maximum volume for a shout.
"I just wanted shelter!" I stopped. I stared at her, as though I were still listening to her outburst. Her form began to quiver; apparently whatever courage she had mustered up to shout like that had left her to deal with the aftermath of its actions. I struck a match and brought a single cigar to light, and after a deep inhale, breathed out the lovely stuff. The cabin was so quiet you could almost hear the cigar burning between my fingers.
"You hear that, kid?" She jerked at the broken silence.
"W-what?" Despite the stutter, her eyes were unflinching.
"Exactly. The rain's done. Now get out of my house. You've no more reason to stay." She looked around as if the ears on her head were for decoration only.
"I- oh, thank you, I-"
A quick puff, some rings this time. Gotta shake it up. "Get out already." Quickly bobbing her head down and up in what I interpreted as a very hurried bow, she made a quck start for the door. As the smoke rings dissapated, I lashed out and snagged her pack, pulling a scream out of her.
"HYAAA!" With dexterity matching my cigar lighting speed, I opened and closed her knapsack, now one item heavier.
Turning around to face me while futilely reaching for the drawstring on her pack, she asked worriedly. "W-what did you put in my-"
"A snake."
"WHAT!? No, seriously, what-"
"Get out already. I'm not gonna ask nicely twice."
"But what-" Bringing my leaden foot down so hard it elevated the lizardgirl temporarily, I reached deep into my stomach and bellowed at her.
"GET OUTTA HERE!" Despite not being as noticable as before, the quivering she was now experiencing shook her far deeper than it had earlier. Her pupils had shrunk to the size of pinpoints, and looking down I noticed a dark stain growing on the front of her trousers.
Oops, I broke her. I'd better give her a little jumpstart, I suppose. Leaning in so she could hear me, I whispered next to her ear.
"This is the part, where you run away."
Like a wind-up toy, she turned jerkingly towards the door and with a mechanical march exited my home. I left just after she did to shout at her as her green figure disappeared over the nearby mountain at high speed.
"AND STAY OUT!" Laughing to myself, I went back to where we had our showdown and, after briefly examining the window, snapped its latches shut. Grabbing one of the three remaining loaves of bread on the counter, I began gnashing at it hungrily as I looked around my home for an old book on monsters I had picked up on travels long ago.