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razeMy palms are sweaty. I haven't been on a date in decades, and I haven't been on a first date in half a century. Blind date? Hah, never. Gargoyles don't have a concept of such a thing, and besides, my only partner was Sun. Sun... fuck, I miss her, and I know no one can fill those shoes, but our lifespan is at least twice a human's, and I don't mean to spend it alone if I can help it.
All I know about my prospective new girl is that her name has the word "mare" in it, and I hope she's a night mare because it's just past midnight that I'm waiting to meet her. It's going to be hard to set the mood at Taco Bell, but most places are closed by now. I'm fifteen minutes early so I'm sitting under the harsh fluorescent glow smelling a bad approximation of Mexican cuisine just waiting. Wondering what she looks like. Wondering if we have anything in common. Wondering if she's going to come two-stepping through that door and rescue me from my loneliness, or if I'm going to find myself alone with a bottle of blomdrigg before sunrise.
Something massive is approaching the entrance, bigger than a human so a hell of a lot bigger than a garg. The light inside is too bright and it fucks my nocturnal vision all up to where I can't see well beyond the door, but a hand bigger than mine with a tawny palm and four thick hoof-tipped fingers presses to the glass. The door groans open, and the first thing I see atop a thick arched neck is a face that would be in the uncanny valley to a horse: horse-like but fundamentally wrong, like someone mashed together an ape and an equine. The body that muscles through behind it is distinctly similar to a gorilla's in both size and character, but the hind feet are hooves, and over an ample round rump swings a short switch of a tail.
You know, I didn't think the prefix "Bellmare" was going to be so... literal.
The kid behind the counter looks up, startled, at the sound of something heavy and hoofed moving through the restaurant. The Inclusion Act passed over twelve years ago, but many non-humans still avoided the most mainstream of public venues due to the relatively high incidence of hate crimes that still plagued the States. So it isn't every day that both a gargoyle and a... whatever she is were guests. I wonder if it's rude to ask someone's species on a first date.
I realize that there is no way, between her anatomy and her size, that Tabu will be able to sit in a chair or at a booth, and look for the closest wheelchair accessible table, which is about as good as we're going to get. Normally I'd be suave and offer to pull out a chair for a lady; instead, I clamber awkwardly out of my seat in what for a moment probably looks like fleeing the restaurant, or I gather as much from her frown when she hears my commotion and looks my way. I walk over to the table and stand beside my chair, figuring if she's standing I might as well greet her on foot.
She doesn't approach immediately, but scans the restaurant, perhaps confused about my gender by my small-breasted, muscular build; if she's as unfamiliar with gargoyles as I am with... whatever she is, she might have me pegged for a male rather than the woman the blind dating site promised. Finally, I clear my throat and give a little wave; her ears snap upright and she looks my way, nostrils flared slightly, then squeezes through what to her is a maze of tables and chairs to approach.
Up close, she's even bigger; Sun was so petite that I really can't fathom what I would do with this much woman if I took her home tonight. I look up to catch her gaze - it's so unsettling to see a horse-like face with relatively forward-facing eyes - and extend one hand to greet her. She looks down like I've done something terribly foreign, and I'm about to let my hand drop when she envelopes mine in her massive fingers - and gargoyles have big hands, so that's saying something - and shakes.
-What a peculiarly human gesture for you to make,- booms a voice in my head, and I nearly startle out of my skin.
"What in the everloving fuck..." I say, wide-eyed, then realize that's probably being rude when the owner of the voice was clearly her.
-It is fine,- she says as if she can read my mind. -I understand that a first encounter with one of the Transcendent can be... jarring.-
Transcendent - oh, shit. I've heard about this. They're lab animals, a recent product of human engineering, freshly unleashed on the world at large. They were designed as a sort of clean-up crew for the fucking mess humans have made of the world; they're problem-solvers, higher intellects. I suddenly feel a little bit inadequate, a Utah country bumpkin raised by Utah country bumpkins.
"Wow, so I'm just sitting here all quiet being rude as shit," I finally say. "I'm sorry. It's a pleasure to meet you, Bellmare Tabu."
-Just Tabu is fine; Bellmare is my title,- she explains. -And it is a pleasure to meet you as well, Amulwara.- She glances over her shoulder to the fast food counter. A small crowd of employees has gathered to watch us, and they scatter like roaches at her first look their way. -I am curious; what made you choose this venue?-
"I'm sorry it isn't nicer, just - there aren't a lot of places that cater to the nocturnal, especially on my budget, and I figured it'd at least be quieter than a dive bar."
-I am not judging,- she said. -I was merely wondering.-
"Gotcha. Well." I gestured the counter. "Shall we?"
-Of course.-
When we approach, the employees are still trying to decide who gets the dubious honor of waiting on us. Finally, a skinny twenty-something with flame-bright red hair whose skin is pocked with more craters than the moon comes up to the counter and in a shaky voice looks all the way up at Tabu and asks her what she'd like. She stares for long enough to be awkward at the menu choices displayed overhead, then looks at me and says,
-So. I'm a vegetarian.-
I don't know why that surprises me; I mean, she's literally a gorilla-horse, but it does, and I feel like an ass especially after years of being with a veggie partner for not having considered that my blind date might have dietary restrictions before choosing a restaurant. Plus, you know, I'd have chose a place that didn't have a scandal in the 2000s for horse meat in their food. Thankfully, the aforementioned partner liked fast food, so I knew for a fact that this menu could be tailored, thought admittedly with a somewhat thin selection of choices, to suit a vegetarian's needs.
"Cheese and eggs, or no?"
The cashier looks at me like I'm nuts, talking to Tabu when she isn't 'saying' anything, and I realize she must be broadcasting just to me.
-Neither,- she replies.
"Okay, so do you prefer salads or burritos?" I ask.
-I suppose salads. But all of the salads here have- -
"Trust me, I got this," I interrupt with a grin. "Hey. Can we get the Veggie Power Menu Bowl, no sour cream or cheese, with lettuce added?"
The cashier nods and punches in the order.
"And I'll have two Crunch Wrap Supremes," I add, then to Tabu: "Sorry, I'm an omnivore."
-Some of my closest friends are carnivores outright; it does not bother me.- She replies, which is a nice reasonable answer that I can respect.
We wait a few minutes, which seems like an unnervingly short time for food prep when you take a step back and think about it, and are then served our respective meals. Tabu has a look that I think is trying to communicate amusement on her face as we return to the table, and when we sit - or, I sit and she stands - she confirms as much by saying,
-So, do you always order your dates' meals?-
"Only when I've taken them to someplace with no suitable menu options," I reply with a wink as I bite into the first wrap - the result of which is hot cheese sauce immediately spewing out of the other end. It's making a beeline for my exposed breasts, and I'm anticipating both pain and embarrassment when suddenly the cheese just... stops, mid air, and then, like someone is reversing the reel on a film, oozes back up and into the tortilla. Tabu reaches out with a napkin and hands it to me.
-You might want this while you're eating that.-
I am too busy being stunned to take another bite, but I finally manage at least accepting the napkin to cover the leaky end of the wrap.
"So, do you always impress your dates with telekinesis?" I finally ask.
She chuckles, this an actual sound, the first I've heard her make - it's a snorting little huff like a laughing dog and it's completely lovely.
-Only when they're about to burn a perfectly good set of breasts,- she answers, winking in turn.
Oh, I think this could be the start of something wonderful.
All I know about my prospective new girl is that her name has the word "mare" in it, and I hope she's a night mare because it's just past midnight that I'm waiting to meet her. It's going to be hard to set the mood at Taco Bell, but most places are closed by now. I'm fifteen minutes early so I'm sitting under the harsh fluorescent glow smelling a bad approximation of Mexican cuisine just waiting. Wondering what she looks like. Wondering if we have anything in common. Wondering if she's going to come two-stepping through that door and rescue me from my loneliness, or if I'm going to find myself alone with a bottle of blomdrigg before sunrise.
Something massive is approaching the entrance, bigger than a human so a hell of a lot bigger than a garg. The light inside is too bright and it fucks my nocturnal vision all up to where I can't see well beyond the door, but a hand bigger than mine with a tawny palm and four thick hoof-tipped fingers presses to the glass. The door groans open, and the first thing I see atop a thick arched neck is a face that would be in the uncanny valley to a horse: horse-like but fundamentally wrong, like someone mashed together an ape and an equine. The body that muscles through behind it is distinctly similar to a gorilla's in both size and character, but the hind feet are hooves, and over an ample round rump swings a short switch of a tail.
You know, I didn't think the prefix "Bellmare" was going to be so... literal.
The kid behind the counter looks up, startled, at the sound of something heavy and hoofed moving through the restaurant. The Inclusion Act passed over twelve years ago, but many non-humans still avoided the most mainstream of public venues due to the relatively high incidence of hate crimes that still plagued the States. So it isn't every day that both a gargoyle and a... whatever she is were guests. I wonder if it's rude to ask someone's species on a first date.
I realize that there is no way, between her anatomy and her size, that Tabu will be able to sit in a chair or at a booth, and look for the closest wheelchair accessible table, which is about as good as we're going to get. Normally I'd be suave and offer to pull out a chair for a lady; instead, I clamber awkwardly out of my seat in what for a moment probably looks like fleeing the restaurant, or I gather as much from her frown when she hears my commotion and looks my way. I walk over to the table and stand beside my chair, figuring if she's standing I might as well greet her on foot.
She doesn't approach immediately, but scans the restaurant, perhaps confused about my gender by my small-breasted, muscular build; if she's as unfamiliar with gargoyles as I am with... whatever she is, she might have me pegged for a male rather than the woman the blind dating site promised. Finally, I clear my throat and give a little wave; her ears snap upright and she looks my way, nostrils flared slightly, then squeezes through what to her is a maze of tables and chairs to approach.
Up close, she's even bigger; Sun was so petite that I really can't fathom what I would do with this much woman if I took her home tonight. I look up to catch her gaze - it's so unsettling to see a horse-like face with relatively forward-facing eyes - and extend one hand to greet her. She looks down like I've done something terribly foreign, and I'm about to let my hand drop when she envelopes mine in her massive fingers - and gargoyles have big hands, so that's saying something - and shakes.
-What a peculiarly human gesture for you to make,- booms a voice in my head, and I nearly startle out of my skin.
"What in the everloving fuck..." I say, wide-eyed, then realize that's probably being rude when the owner of the voice was clearly her.
-It is fine,- she says as if she can read my mind. -I understand that a first encounter with one of the Transcendent can be... jarring.-
Transcendent - oh, shit. I've heard about this. They're lab animals, a recent product of human engineering, freshly unleashed on the world at large. They were designed as a sort of clean-up crew for the fucking mess humans have made of the world; they're problem-solvers, higher intellects. I suddenly feel a little bit inadequate, a Utah country bumpkin raised by Utah country bumpkins.
"Wow, so I'm just sitting here all quiet being rude as shit," I finally say. "I'm sorry. It's a pleasure to meet you, Bellmare Tabu."
-Just Tabu is fine; Bellmare is my title,- she explains. -And it is a pleasure to meet you as well, Amulwara.- She glances over her shoulder to the fast food counter. A small crowd of employees has gathered to watch us, and they scatter like roaches at her first look their way. -I am curious; what made you choose this venue?-
"I'm sorry it isn't nicer, just - there aren't a lot of places that cater to the nocturnal, especially on my budget, and I figured it'd at least be quieter than a dive bar."
-I am not judging,- she said. -I was merely wondering.-
"Gotcha. Well." I gestured the counter. "Shall we?"
-Of course.-
When we approach, the employees are still trying to decide who gets the dubious honor of waiting on us. Finally, a skinny twenty-something with flame-bright red hair whose skin is pocked with more craters than the moon comes up to the counter and in a shaky voice looks all the way up at Tabu and asks her what she'd like. She stares for long enough to be awkward at the menu choices displayed overhead, then looks at me and says,
-So. I'm a vegetarian.-
I don't know why that surprises me; I mean, she's literally a gorilla-horse, but it does, and I feel like an ass especially after years of being with a veggie partner for not having considered that my blind date might have dietary restrictions before choosing a restaurant. Plus, you know, I'd have chose a place that didn't have a scandal in the 2000s for horse meat in their food. Thankfully, the aforementioned partner liked fast food, so I knew for a fact that this menu could be tailored, thought admittedly with a somewhat thin selection of choices, to suit a vegetarian's needs.
"Cheese and eggs, or no?"
The cashier looks at me like I'm nuts, talking to Tabu when she isn't 'saying' anything, and I realize she must be broadcasting just to me.
-Neither,- she replies.
"Okay, so do you prefer salads or burritos?" I ask.
-I suppose salads. But all of the salads here have- -
"Trust me, I got this," I interrupt with a grin. "Hey. Can we get the Veggie Power Menu Bowl, no sour cream or cheese, with lettuce added?"
The cashier nods and punches in the order.
"And I'll have two Crunch Wrap Supremes," I add, then to Tabu: "Sorry, I'm an omnivore."
-Some of my closest friends are carnivores outright; it does not bother me.- She replies, which is a nice reasonable answer that I can respect.
We wait a few minutes, which seems like an unnervingly short time for food prep when you take a step back and think about it, and are then served our respective meals. Tabu has a look that I think is trying to communicate amusement on her face as we return to the table, and when we sit - or, I sit and she stands - she confirms as much by saying,
-So, do you always order your dates' meals?-
"Only when I've taken them to someplace with no suitable menu options," I reply with a wink as I bite into the first wrap - the result of which is hot cheese sauce immediately spewing out of the other end. It's making a beeline for my exposed breasts, and I'm anticipating both pain and embarrassment when suddenly the cheese just... stops, mid air, and then, like someone is reversing the reel on a film, oozes back up and into the tortilla. Tabu reaches out with a napkin and hands it to me.
-You might want this while you're eating that.-
I am too busy being stunned to take another bite, but I finally manage at least accepting the napkin to cover the leaky end of the wrap.
"So, do you always impress your dates with telekinesis?" I finally ask.
She chuckles, this an actual sound, the first I've heard her make - it's a snorting little huff like a laughing dog and it's completely lovely.
-Only when they're about to burn a perfectly good set of breasts,- she answers, winking in turn.
Oh, I think this could be the start of something wonderful.
