AKA, a story that evolved form a picture that’ll be done in about nine days. Features, somewhat, this duo, who are long overdue for a story.
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There was no other word to describe it: nervous. Robyn was nervous, so nervous – she had lost count of how many times Tati said it would be okay, everything would work out, that she was the one at danger, not the poor little human girl.
None of that mattered when the bouncer waived them through with one of his many lacey tentacles, giving an eye to Robyn that could’ve been anything from mild interest to malice to confusion.
Why should she be the one to cause confusion? Didn’t Tati look just like her?
She does, but she also looks like she knows what she’s doing the voice in Robyn’s head had to chime out. She snorted through her nose and let herself succumb to the fact that was completely, totally, and utterly lost.
Robyn was used to bars, or bar-like settings, but as far as actually going to one herself and drinking, well, she…didn’t do it. It was a place that filled her with anxiety from all the horror stories told to her throughout the years. The best way to avoid become a story herself was to just stay out of the places entirely. And yet here she was, in a place completely unknown, further away from her home than she could’ve ever imagined possibly, at a bar.
To be fair, it was a nice bar, at least to her untrained eyes. Blue light glowed from fixtures meshed in with the ceiling and walls, a haze of orange appearing from the very top where windows revealed the planet outside. While it wasn’t as crowded as Robyn had imagined, there were still enough patrons to give her an eyeful of the various types of creatures that haunted the joint.
“Stay here,” Tati’s voice ordered Robyn, a gentle pat on the shoulder attempting reassurance. “My guy’s here, and I don’t want you caught in any potential crossfire.”
“O – okay,” Robyn managed to get out between her very obvious stares at the person sitting on the other side of the bar. It was a shape of smoke with a mask resembling a furnace, an expression appearing from the shapes. A martini glass was suspended in one appendage, others flailing wildly as it relayed some story to a listening…burrito.
A sentient burrito, with a face and everything. Even a top hat. There went another thing on the list of ‘items never to eat again due to travel’.
“Oi, barkeep,” Tati shouted above the current noise level. The one in question was a purple-skinned man with long and pointed ears, resembling an elf with all things considered. He looked down towards the direction of the voice, eyebrow raised, before his expression completely flattened.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, a Scottish accent along with it.
Tati grinned. “I could ask the same. I thought you were stuck to that one on the Earth branch?”
“I was asked to cover a shift here,” he replied simply. “So what is it you want?”
“Keep an eye on Robyn for me, would ya?” Another pat to the shoulder. “I’d get in trouble if something happened to her.”
“What, are you renting her or something? You won’t get the deposit back?”
Robyn seized up and stared at the older woman, who merely laughed. “She’s mah frieeend, and I’d appreciate her staying the way she is, hair clips and all.”
The elf-man sighed. “Alright, alright, just – I know why you’re here. Try not to break anyth – try not to destroy the building, okay?” He grimaced before picking up a glass and wiping it down with the rag previously on his shoulder. “What would you like to drink, Miss Robyn?”
His words and his accent, being so familiar to her, caught her off-guard and sent her into a haze. It was…comforting, somehow. She looked at Tati, who waggled her eyebrows and clapped the younger girl on the shoulder. “I’m off,” was her simple declaration before shooting off and disappearing into the crowd.
“Um, I – I don’t really know, I mean, I don’t…drink or anything…”
“Not a problem.” The elf-man swept his hand to a shelf of wildly shaped bottles behind him. “Plenty of species are allergic to alcohol. And there are those that aren’t but would be killed dead by some other stuff.
Robyn stared, sliding into a stool and compressing her knees against the bar. “Um, well, I was just kinda hoping for like…a Fresca or something…”
“I can give you something like a Fresca, except it’s from Nabwaneet, is that okay?”
Times like this were times Robyn wished she could spout off a witty comment like her mentor-figure could. But alas, her tongue wasn’t as sharp as she had hoped, and instead she nodded in response.
She took the time to gauge her surroundings. There was no one to her right, not for a few seats down, but to her immediate left was a…well, how to describe it. A walking leaf? It was human-sized, a bit thinner and taller, but fairly recognizable. A singular shape reminiscent of a blade of grass formed its arm, the tip narrowing into a spindle that was clutched around the stem of a glass. Its torso was woven and segmented from several more bits of vegetation, a stem shaping its throat. As it sipped its drink, the thin veins in the green pulsated in response, like they were enjoying it as well.
“It’s called Frenzno on Nabwaneet,” the elf-man-bartender interrupted, setting a frosted glass in front of Robyn. “Copyright’s a lovely thing.”
“Oh – thank you.” Robyn stared at the beverage, bubbles rising and popping at the surface, just like she was used to. Suddenly she looked up, feeling a gaze staring at her, and sure enough, there was: the bartender’s.
“Where you from?” he asked, placing the cap on a bottle that she assumed held more of her drink.
“Um…Earth.”
“Where from Earth specifically, I meant.” He managed to put on a smile to edge off the awkward. “I could tell you were, with your mannerisms.”
“So it wasn’t my clothes this time?”
“Not very. Fashions come and go, as you are aware.”
“I’m from Scotland.”
“Ahh, isn’t that lovely.” His smile flashed with genuine warmth. “So am I.”
Robyn’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? Like – how – well –”
He chuckled. “There are things going on that you never realize until you have that door opened for you, right? People like me just exist in different ways.”
“I – I see.” Robyn quickly grabbed her glass and took a cautious sip before deciding the beverage was safe and taking a larger gulp. “So if you’re from Scotland and you can tell where I’m from, then how…how are you here…?”
“It helps when you work for a cosmic witch doctor,” he answered dryly. “This is the branch for the Beetleguise sector. The normal bartender called in sick so I was drafted over.” He rolled one of his shoulders, grunting. “They say vortex manipulators are a terrible way to travel, but I think magic is worse…”
Robyn giggled, though she tried to mask her amusement with an apologetic smile. “So Mister – errr –”
“Clement. Clem if you prefer.”
“Mister Clement, are you like…I mean, do you…Well um, what – what time are you from on Earth? Is that an okay thing to ask?”
He cocked his eyebrows, flashing a grin. “Keep that up and you’re never going to get beyond ‘tourist’ in this whole thing.” His words made her cheeks flush from embarrassment, though that wasn’t really anything new. “But to answer your question, it depends. Presently speaking, my ‘current’ is 2012 – you?”
“Oh! Oh, me too then.” For whatever reason, she felt a wave of relief wash over her. It was…refreshing to meet others from her time period.
“Wait wait, waaaait – cute carbon lifeform like you is from Earth?”
The plant-creature next to her suddenly sprung to life, twisting in its vegetated self and turning its stick-like neck to look at her. Robyn froze but managed to crank her head over to look at him, hoping her nervous grin didn’t come off as such.
“Y – yes?”
The plant’s face was comprised of holes that changed shape to match its emotions. Gaping holes for eyes and a distinctly D-shaped mouth were showing its current state of enjoyment. “Really? My ancestors are from Earth. They say my kind are harvested, cooked, eaten – is that true; do you do that?”
Clem sighed, tapping his fingers on the counter. “Miss Robyn, this is Gregor, a Viridiplantae. They are the…humanoid plants, so to speak, of Mendelo. Far, far descendents of the type on Earth.” He narrowed his eyes at Gregor. “You be careful. She’s traveling with a bounty hunter.”
Gregor swung his head over to Clem. “Really now? That’s certainly not something you come across from everyone.” He looked back to Robyn and winked (the hole for the corresponding ‘eye’ evaporating away for a brief second). “I enjoy that challenge, then.”
The bartender facepalmed. “You don’t want to. Trust me.”
“Oh? Why’s that? Did you have dibs on her, lilac?”
Snorting, Clem shook his head and retrieved the bottle of Frenzno, filling up Robyn’s glass without looking. “Such isn’t the case. Her party is with Rhys.”
“…Rhys. Huh. I beg your pardon, but I wasn’t aware bounty hunters were a need-to-know in my life. Which one’s Rhys? The Dwanbyr?”
“Nope. ‘sides, that guy got knocked into a coma a while back. Rhys is the Malakh one.”
Gregor spit his drink, setting the glass down quickly and wiping his mouth. “A Malakh; there’s a Malakh bounty hunter, really? Self-righteous air-meats is all they are.”
Although all the words were settling in her mind, the actual meaning of them flew right over Robyn’s head. She stared blankly at the two, looking from one to the other and back again, hoping that perhaps they’d let slip what any part of their conversation meant.
Sadly, such was not her luck, not tonight.
A sudden crash and a fury of shouts, coupled with an audible wave of gasps, interrupted the banter. Without even looking, Robyn knew this was when things were about to get awkward – and dangerous. She looked up and beyond the bar, settling her view on a balcony that lined the perimeter of the walls. One second later and she would’ve missed it, but there it was, the unmistakable shape of ‘Rhys the bounty hunter’ and her billowing jacket, vaulting over the edge and after some creature. The two disappeared into the crowd on the floor, who parted as the object of the chase darted out.
What happened next was still something Robyn didn’t understand. Her eyes fixed on the fugitive, she left her seat at the bar and maneuvered her way out on the floor. She stole a quick glance for the entrance and set herself up between that and him.
He resembled an incredibly lanky man but swung about with more gorilla-esque movements, the weight of his body favoring the torso. Robyn swallowed, the sensation of getting slammed into by such a weight seeming less and less appealing as the milliseconds ticked by.
The creature looked ahead and laid eyes on her, his brow heightening, his feet attempting to backpedal. Robyn spread her arms, keeping her expression steady even as she freaked outside.
What are you doing?!
True, she couldn’t do the things her mentor could do. She wasn’t able to run as fast, or be as strong, or fire off sarcastic remarks with quite as much accuracy. But she simply didn’t care, because right now, Robyn MacIntyre wasn’t even thinking. The voice in her head was arguing as fast as it could, but its words meant less and less as the fugitive slowed down in an attempt to alter his course.
But alas, too late.
Because by then, the familiar sight of Mr. Sonic Stabby was brandishing itself to anyone who cared to look. Tati leapt in the air and landed on his back, swinging the modified switchblade in her hand and slamming the invisible blade into its neck.
The few seconds left were like watching her ride a bucking bull, as the man lost control of his movements and flung about wildly before collapsing, quite suddenly, to the ground. Tati winced as she stood up, shaking out her legs.
“I didn’t think he’d be affected that badly,” she muttered, swinging the weapon again and returning it to the depths of her coat. After another solid second, Robyn dropped her arms to her sides, her heart racing wildly, and joined the older woman at the site of the unconscious target.
“So um…this is who you were meeting?”
“Eeeyup.” Tati unhooked her belts and tied his wrists and ankles together with the two, satisfied at her hog-rearing skills and giving a bemused smirk to Robyn, who grinned with relief. “Yo, Clem!” she called out next, waving her hand to the elven bartender. “I could use some help escorting Monsieur Qy off the premises!”
—-
When all was said and done, the two bid their farewells and quietly slipped away, back into the void to the comfort of the Base. Robyn was curled up on a chair, thumbing through a book she found under a stack of, well, other books. It was written in English but with a publishing date of 4192, and some of the language baffled her.
The unmistakable plodding of a tired Tati interrupted Robyn’s trying to figure out the phrase ‘ziq like a solar puddle’. She flopped onto the nearby couch, her barefeet swinging into the air, before releasing a sigh.
It was the sort of ‘well, we need to get this over with’ sigh that made Robyn uneasy. It basically meant a scolding was upon her.
“I appreciate you helping me out,” Tati began, “though you did a really did a good job of scaring the hell out of me.”
“Oh!” Robyn snapped the book shut, pressing it on the undersides of her arms. “I uh – I just – I don’t even know Miss Tati, I don’t know what happened, it just sort of happened, and it was like – my legs were moving, I didn’t even…”
A few seconds of silence followed, with a snort thrown in. “I understand. Feeling useless sucks.”
“…Yeah.”
“Okay. Okay, I can…I can deal with this.” Tati swung up, resting her elbows on her knees, and pointed a finger at the young woman. “You know that I don’t want you getting killed.”
“Well…I’d hoped that was the case…”
“But you know that getting hurt is entirely possible.”
“Right.”
“The thing is, I don’t want you…you know…dying from being hurt.”
Robyn nodded. “Right…”
“So I hope you can see my dilemma.”
“Yeah…I can…But it’s…I want to help you, Miss Tati! If I’m not doing anything but watching, what’s the point in me even being here?”
Tati rolled her head back and looked up, her lips squirming into her cheek. “It’s…stuff. You know. Stuff. Things. Um…let’s put it this way.” She lowered her head and lined up their eyes. “I catch bad guys. I’m not spilling the blood of a little bird if I…” Her mouth opened to say one thing, but she quickly shook it off. “I’m not doing that if I’m not getting money from it.”
There was a grin that followed, but Robyn had a hard time noticing it. There was something she was missing; yet another conversation that was flying over her head. But unlike in the bar, where she was interrupted from trying to ask, this time, she just…didn’t want to.
