A Bottle Or Two

It has been a long day and Yviera stressed far too much over the ruling of the council. They were bound to banish her friend for supposed treason, it wouldn’t be long before they found her. The interrogation couldn’t spill her name, showing that there was faith between them that they will get out somehow. Or, at the very least, Yviera has not abandoned her friend.

But that stress built up to the point where the only true escape was a tavern. Ah, yes. While her friend probably was being smacked around inside a cellar in a dungeon, Yviera was wasting herself down bottles of whiskey. What a loyal partner in crime.

Regardless, the tavern was rather empty since she decided to drink earlier in the morning. With those restless brown eyes refusing to take in sleep, the depressant in a glass was her only hope of obtaining some peace of mind. The initial plan was to black out, perhaps so much so that she slams her head against the counter without feeling a thing.

“Ha! Look at this dumb broad wasting herself away!” A high-pitched voice exclaimed, a cocky tone bleeding with judgment.

Congratulations to whoever decided to be passive-aggressive with her, they earned a chokehold from a seasoned spy. That was another initial plan to be thrown out the window, for her bitter glaring eyes would turn to see a grey pelt with two small black orbs. A mouse?

Shaking her head, she would dismiss the possibility of hallucinations. Whiskey didn’t give anyone the ability to see random mice. At least, not in her experience. Perhaps the drink was spiked? The mouse looked real enough, but it should not be talking. Despite realizing this, she found herself unable to care, the brunette taking it upon herself to confront the mouse.

“L-Listen here ya’ lit-” Her threat was cut short by an abrupt hiccup. A rapidly beating heart in her chest was pumping at unusually high speeds, the irony of a depressant. Regardless, with a burning body raging inside, she was seemingly collected and numb on the outside.

The mouse refused to wait for her rebuttal, instead adding more to the illusion by plucking out another mouse out of thin air. It lacked a tail and a set of eyes, but it did have the base of a mouse. That’s the joke her drained mind made to entertain her, a mouse with a computer mouse.

Can she be let out of this nightmare already?

“Ayyyy, like what I did there? A mouse with a mouse, love.” Rat declared, a fitting nickname considering how annoying he was and the fact that he’ll probably start thinking of “Mouse” to be a gesture towards the inanimate object. As if she needed another mental roadblock to dance around, but who decided to take hard shots from the bottle again?

“Piss off, insufferable rodent. I outta beat the living devil out of you.” Yviera threatened, no hiccups to cut her off this time. Wait two seconds later and the hiccup arrived. Late, but fashionably late. What a way to mitigate the threat towards dead air.

The animal pawed at the mouse in front of it for a little, playing with the new toy before tilting its head back up at the woman.

“But if you were mine, I could cook for you~.” Trailing flirty words from the animal, only to be followed by a few chuckles. Rat never learned that only the arrogant laugh at their jokes in such a manner. Such petty insults couldn’t be thrown so hastily, there was a racing heart that Yviera had to race against.

But despite her attempts at flailing about, aiming to try and grab the mouse and throw it, the vision of the animal would merely step back out of range as a set of sloppy arms rested on the surface. Soon, her head would fall onto her forearm and a massive headache would punish her hasty movement in turn.

Yviera had no choice but to admit defeat. Besides, a mouse that could crack jokes and could cook?

“Mmm… Is your cooking any… Go- hic -od?” She asked, a dreary defeated tone taking over as she slid her body up, arms to the side and knocked the bottle off the table. A crash could soon be heard right after, what could that possibly be?

“Mmmmm, how would I know? I hate food.” The animal replied with a cheeky grin. That nearly earned him a good smack, but even a drunk Yviera knew when efforts are fruitless. This was no exception.

“You HATE food and you’re a COOK!” She pressed harshly, fire in her eyes to give it a hint of what was going on inside of her. But the animal was created from this illusion, it knew damn well what it was doing.

“Oi, don’t be jealous of my skills because I’m so perfect~.” What better way to flatter a lady than by being a playful idiot?

“PERFECT!? MATE, I AM THREE SECONDS AWAY FROM-“

“Blacking out?” The animal finished, leaving Yviera with a confused set of wide eyes and a pair of lips in the shape of an “o”. Those eyes would soon roll back and close as the light of the world would fade soon after. And finally, her head slammed against the counter, an impact she wasn’t waking up from.

The sun was bound to raise and the whiskey knocked her out at last. But with that, the trial was soon to come. A plan was soon to be lost, all for a bottle or two.

Semi-Realistic

Noel Winter View All →

Care to read a few tales? I just happen to have a few!

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