Writing Prompts - Last thing you remember
Dec. 15th, 2018 03:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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felinefablesBased on a prompt by Writing-prompt-s on tumblr.
The last thing you remember from last night was drunkenly stumbling into the local occult shop. Now, you are slowly waking up to the hangover to end all hangovers, and find a piece of paper on your chest. It reads, in large letters, «The undersigned has sold his soul for magical powers and a familiar.» Your signature is at the bottom. Slowly, the smell of bacon and eggs is wafting in from the kitchen, and an inhuman voice shouts, «Master, your breakfast is ready!»
I guess I was supposed to be shocked. And I supposed a part of me should have been jumping out of bed and scrambling to the kitchen to see what kind of possible, unholy abomination I had allowed into my home with this signature, that was very much in my handwriting (and from the looks of it, also in blood. Well fuck.)
But the truth is, the rest of my body was just not up for it. In fact, the smell of bacon and eggs wafting from the kitchen, along with the sudden shouting voice, made my head throb and my stomach roil with nausea and I pulled my pillow down over my head with a faint moan of agony.
“Master?” The voice was closer now, and I could sense someone (or something) was leaning in through the door. “I’ve also got a cup of tea for your hangover.” God damn, its voice sounded almost thunderous, even while muffled through the pillow.
“Please stop yelling.” I mumbled weakly. “An’ don’t call me master.” At the same time however, the roiling of my stomach became much worse and I shot up in bed, ready to pitch over the side of it to throw up whatever little I’d had to eat the night before. I would probably have faceplanted into the floor too, if a massive, clawed hand hadn’t caught the back of my shirt, and without warning and a sudden flash of blue smoke, had us transported out to the bathroom where I was free to make my sacrifice to the porcelain gods.
The clawed hands, amazingly gentle, very easily brushed my hair back and kept it there until I finished. I moaned weakly when I was done, my vision blurry as I finally lifted my head. And then I found a damp cloth being offered to me, being held tenderly between two giant claws. I carefully accepted it, before I finally looked up at my familiar. Which turned out to be a dragon.
“Holy shit you’re tall!” I blinked dumbly and then grimaced. “Crap… I said that out loud, didn’t I.”
My familiar tilted its head, the corners of its mouth twitching in a slight smile, looking more amused than anything. It was built like how scientists used to imagine Velociraptors, or at least how they had imagined them once upon a time in Jurassic Park, its body covered in dark blue scales. Its legs were and muscular, no doubt meant for running over land, though its front legs were also built in a way that were dexterous. Folded across its back were a pair of leathery wings, the membrane a lighter orange for some reason. On the top of its raptor-like head, two slender deer-like antlers curled back. Down the back of its neck, back and slender, but flexible tail, ran a soft-looking black mane.
“Well, you did want something tall, Master. ‘Something that can reach the taller shelves’ from what I recall.” It finally said. Its voice was deep and rumbling, like a gentle roll of thunder, though it still made my head throb, but hopefully it would go away along with the rest of my hangover.
“Did I? I don’t remember… Sorry.” I managed, before I reached out and pushed the button to the toilet, making it flush. While that was working, I tried getting to my feet, only to nearly collapse from my left knee giving out. Pain shot through it, making me gasp, right before the dragons clawed hands caught me by my arms and very carefully helped me to my feet as I mentally cursed out the snowboarding accident in high school that left me with a bad knee. Some days were worse than others, and I recalled it being awful yesterday as well.
Which also explained why I’d been hit as bad by the alcohol as I had. I hadn’t taken my goddamn painkillers into account. Good job, me.
“Uh, thanks…” I said, “and again, sorry… about not remembering much from last night.” I grimaced, rubbing my head. “I don’t usually drink that much.”
“I know. You told me.” The dragon replied, sounding almost apologetic. “You were… very drunk last night.” As it carefully helped me steady myself, it tilted its head in concern. “May I ask why, Master? You also seemed to be in a bit of distress… it did make the shop owner hesitant to sell you the summoning contract, mind you, but he seemed to feel like you needed it.”
Oh god, the poor shop owner… Mr. Martins was an older gentleman of unknown mixed heritage, who I’d always greet when on my way to and from work. He had always smiled, and then made me offers of sales from his shop, from tea to tarot card readings. I had sometimes bought the tea, but never the tarot readings. If anything, he had deserved it the least to suffer from my emotional mess.
Finally, I just sighed as I began to move toward the kitchen, my stupid knee making me limp as we went, though the dragon was very good at supporting me.
“Short of the long, I had a very bad day.” I sighed. “… I lost someone close to me. Lost as in, they died. Same day, I basically got cheated for a promotion and they cut my hours at work, so now I need to find a second, part time job. Add to that I’m an idiot with mixing painkillers and alcohol and there you go.” I grimaced as we made it to the kitchen, sitting down slowly on the nearest chair. The dragon just nodded as it made its way over to the stove, where the bacon and eggs still were. It had sensibly not tried to leave the heat on, and came over with the food on a plate and tea served in my Iron Man mug, its claws settling both delicately on the table.
“Thanks.” I said quietly. My stomach was at least not as upset over the smell of food anymore, so I grabbed a piece of bacon and nibbled on it while the dragon carefully sat down, its long tail curling around its hind legs as it watched me.
“I’m sorry about your loss, Master.” The dragon finally said after a while. “And for the rest. I can not imagine anyone handling that kind of day well.”
“And I’m sorry for causing Mr. Martins trouble.” I sighed, before idly sipping my tea. It was slightly sweet, and whatever was in it made my head throb a lot less. “I guess I just thought about how he was offering me good luck charms yesterday morning, and drunk me decided to take him up on it.” I snorted a bit at that. “I don’t even remember asking for magic though. Or a familiar.”
“From how I understand,” the dragon said carefully, “you showed up inebriated, but also crying, and Mr. Martins as you call him, decided to see what kind of help he could offer. He asked you to pick anything of two things from his shop. You picked the contract scroll, and you picked me.”
I blinked at that, confused. “How did I pick you?” I asked, before I realized that I didn’t even know my own familiars name. Nice going, me. “Shoot… I’m sorry, but, what do I call you? What’s your name?”
The dragon smiled that slightly amused smile again, before it responded. “My name is whatever you desire, Master. Mr. Martins and I agreed that in your inebriated state, you wouldn’t be able to properly name me just yet. There’s a signature line for that in the contract as well. As for how you picked me, you bumped into a shelf where my preservation jar was standing. You caught me however, and that made the choice final.”
In a blink, the contract was there on the table, lying neatly open. I leaned over to look it over, to see what exactly it entailed other than the magical powers thing. Which also reminded me of another thing.
“Quick question. It says here I asked for magical powers.” I said, “but I don’t…feel very magical?”
“Once you give me a name, the contract will be fully completed.” The dragon responded, “even though you have signed in blood.”
I frowned in thought, reading over the contract again, this time more carefully. I was used to reading contracts, as it was part of my job to write them out, so at least most of it made sense to me. Still, I asked questions to some things, and the dragon answered them the best it could to its own knowledge.
In the end, however, I decided to finish the contract signing. I mean, it couldn’t hurt. And who knew what kind of extra job opportunities there could be for someone who could also do magic?
Maybe, I thought to myself, I could even find a better job than for those dickbags I was working for now. Like, I’d loved my job, but I had been fucked over bad yesterday, and that was not good for company loyalty.
“What kind of name would you like?” I decided to ask the dragon. “Also, stop me if I’m rude, are you a girl or a boy? I can’t really tell.”
The dragon merely snorted. “I am male. To anyone knowing, it’s in my wing color.” He carefully stretched out one wing, showing off the orange color. In the light of the morning sun from my window, it almost glowed now from light orange to deep red. “The color shows my health and attracts females.”
I nodded, showing my understanding, an idea for a name forming in my head. Mainly a name from a childhood favourite book of mine, with a dragon of a similar name. Heck, when I thought about it, he almost looked similar. But still, better to ask before I decided.
“How about Skye? With an added e?” I asked. At a head tilt, I shrugged. “I mean, it’s your name, I’d prefer it if you liked it too.”
The dragons scaly mouth pursed in thought. “Skye.” He said, rolling the name slowly on his tongue a couple of times. Then, his mouth seemed to split open, showing rows upon rows of long, sharp teeth, promptly scaring the shit out of me. It took me a few heart-stopping moments to realize that he was *grinning* at me in sheer glee.
“Skye. I like it!” The dragon declared. “It is easy to remember. Much easier than names I have had in the past. Even easier than my true name!”
At my puzzled look, he chuckled. “All familiars have a True Name, to protect them from rival magic users. You will learn it, when you finish signing the contract.”
I just blinked slowly, before I finally shrugged. “Okay… do I need to sign that in blood too, or do I need a pen?”
“Blood binds better, so it would be preferred.” The dragon responded, before offering up a thin needle from who-knows-where. I just accepted it, looking at the needle for a few moments.
‘You know what, might as well.’ I thought, before I pricked my finger, and with my finger I carefully wrote out my familiar’s name on the proper signature line.
The last thing you remember from last night was drunkenly stumbling into the local occult shop. Now, you are slowly waking up to the hangover to end all hangovers, and find a piece of paper on your chest. It reads, in large letters, «The undersigned has sold his soul for magical powers and a familiar.» Your signature is at the bottom. Slowly, the smell of bacon and eggs is wafting in from the kitchen, and an inhuman voice shouts, «Master, your breakfast is ready!»
I guess I was supposed to be shocked. And I supposed a part of me should have been jumping out of bed and scrambling to the kitchen to see what kind of possible, unholy abomination I had allowed into my home with this signature, that was very much in my handwriting (and from the looks of it, also in blood. Well fuck.)
But the truth is, the rest of my body was just not up for it. In fact, the smell of bacon and eggs wafting from the kitchen, along with the sudden shouting voice, made my head throb and my stomach roil with nausea and I pulled my pillow down over my head with a faint moan of agony.
“Master?” The voice was closer now, and I could sense someone (or something) was leaning in through the door. “I’ve also got a cup of tea for your hangover.” God damn, its voice sounded almost thunderous, even while muffled through the pillow.
“Please stop yelling.” I mumbled weakly. “An’ don’t call me master.” At the same time however, the roiling of my stomach became much worse and I shot up in bed, ready to pitch over the side of it to throw up whatever little I’d had to eat the night before. I would probably have faceplanted into the floor too, if a massive, clawed hand hadn’t caught the back of my shirt, and without warning and a sudden flash of blue smoke, had us transported out to the bathroom where I was free to make my sacrifice to the porcelain gods.
The clawed hands, amazingly gentle, very easily brushed my hair back and kept it there until I finished. I moaned weakly when I was done, my vision blurry as I finally lifted my head. And then I found a damp cloth being offered to me, being held tenderly between two giant claws. I carefully accepted it, before I finally looked up at my familiar. Which turned out to be a dragon.
“Holy shit you’re tall!” I blinked dumbly and then grimaced. “Crap… I said that out loud, didn’t I.”
My familiar tilted its head, the corners of its mouth twitching in a slight smile, looking more amused than anything. It was built like how scientists used to imagine Velociraptors, or at least how they had imagined them once upon a time in Jurassic Park, its body covered in dark blue scales. Its legs were and muscular, no doubt meant for running over land, though its front legs were also built in a way that were dexterous. Folded across its back were a pair of leathery wings, the membrane a lighter orange for some reason. On the top of its raptor-like head, two slender deer-like antlers curled back. Down the back of its neck, back and slender, but flexible tail, ran a soft-looking black mane.
“Well, you did want something tall, Master. ‘Something that can reach the taller shelves’ from what I recall.” It finally said. Its voice was deep and rumbling, like a gentle roll of thunder, though it still made my head throb, but hopefully it would go away along with the rest of my hangover.
“Did I? I don’t remember… Sorry.” I managed, before I reached out and pushed the button to the toilet, making it flush. While that was working, I tried getting to my feet, only to nearly collapse from my left knee giving out. Pain shot through it, making me gasp, right before the dragons clawed hands caught me by my arms and very carefully helped me to my feet as I mentally cursed out the snowboarding accident in high school that left me with a bad knee. Some days were worse than others, and I recalled it being awful yesterday as well.
Which also explained why I’d been hit as bad by the alcohol as I had. I hadn’t taken my goddamn painkillers into account. Good job, me.
“Uh, thanks…” I said, “and again, sorry… about not remembering much from last night.” I grimaced, rubbing my head. “I don’t usually drink that much.”
“I know. You told me.” The dragon replied, sounding almost apologetic. “You were… very drunk last night.” As it carefully helped me steady myself, it tilted its head in concern. “May I ask why, Master? You also seemed to be in a bit of distress… it did make the shop owner hesitant to sell you the summoning contract, mind you, but he seemed to feel like you needed it.”
Oh god, the poor shop owner… Mr. Martins was an older gentleman of unknown mixed heritage, who I’d always greet when on my way to and from work. He had always smiled, and then made me offers of sales from his shop, from tea to tarot card readings. I had sometimes bought the tea, but never the tarot readings. If anything, he had deserved it the least to suffer from my emotional mess.
Finally, I just sighed as I began to move toward the kitchen, my stupid knee making me limp as we went, though the dragon was very good at supporting me.
“Short of the long, I had a very bad day.” I sighed. “… I lost someone close to me. Lost as in, they died. Same day, I basically got cheated for a promotion and they cut my hours at work, so now I need to find a second, part time job. Add to that I’m an idiot with mixing painkillers and alcohol and there you go.” I grimaced as we made it to the kitchen, sitting down slowly on the nearest chair. The dragon just nodded as it made its way over to the stove, where the bacon and eggs still were. It had sensibly not tried to leave the heat on, and came over with the food on a plate and tea served in my Iron Man mug, its claws settling both delicately on the table.
“Thanks.” I said quietly. My stomach was at least not as upset over the smell of food anymore, so I grabbed a piece of bacon and nibbled on it while the dragon carefully sat down, its long tail curling around its hind legs as it watched me.
“I’m sorry about your loss, Master.” The dragon finally said after a while. “And for the rest. I can not imagine anyone handling that kind of day well.”
“And I’m sorry for causing Mr. Martins trouble.” I sighed, before idly sipping my tea. It was slightly sweet, and whatever was in it made my head throb a lot less. “I guess I just thought about how he was offering me good luck charms yesterday morning, and drunk me decided to take him up on it.” I snorted a bit at that. “I don’t even remember asking for magic though. Or a familiar.”
“From how I understand,” the dragon said carefully, “you showed up inebriated, but also crying, and Mr. Martins as you call him, decided to see what kind of help he could offer. He asked you to pick anything of two things from his shop. You picked the contract scroll, and you picked me.”
I blinked at that, confused. “How did I pick you?” I asked, before I realized that I didn’t even know my own familiars name. Nice going, me. “Shoot… I’m sorry, but, what do I call you? What’s your name?”
The dragon smiled that slightly amused smile again, before it responded. “My name is whatever you desire, Master. Mr. Martins and I agreed that in your inebriated state, you wouldn’t be able to properly name me just yet. There’s a signature line for that in the contract as well. As for how you picked me, you bumped into a shelf where my preservation jar was standing. You caught me however, and that made the choice final.”
In a blink, the contract was there on the table, lying neatly open. I leaned over to look it over, to see what exactly it entailed other than the magical powers thing. Which also reminded me of another thing.
“Quick question. It says here I asked for magical powers.” I said, “but I don’t…feel very magical?”
“Once you give me a name, the contract will be fully completed.” The dragon responded, “even though you have signed in blood.”
I frowned in thought, reading over the contract again, this time more carefully. I was used to reading contracts, as it was part of my job to write them out, so at least most of it made sense to me. Still, I asked questions to some things, and the dragon answered them the best it could to its own knowledge.
In the end, however, I decided to finish the contract signing. I mean, it couldn’t hurt. And who knew what kind of extra job opportunities there could be for someone who could also do magic?
Maybe, I thought to myself, I could even find a better job than for those dickbags I was working for now. Like, I’d loved my job, but I had been fucked over bad yesterday, and that was not good for company loyalty.
“What kind of name would you like?” I decided to ask the dragon. “Also, stop me if I’m rude, are you a girl or a boy? I can’t really tell.”
The dragon merely snorted. “I am male. To anyone knowing, it’s in my wing color.” He carefully stretched out one wing, showing off the orange color. In the light of the morning sun from my window, it almost glowed now from light orange to deep red. “The color shows my health and attracts females.”
I nodded, showing my understanding, an idea for a name forming in my head. Mainly a name from a childhood favourite book of mine, with a dragon of a similar name. Heck, when I thought about it, he almost looked similar. But still, better to ask before I decided.
“How about Skye? With an added e?” I asked. At a head tilt, I shrugged. “I mean, it’s your name, I’d prefer it if you liked it too.”
The dragons scaly mouth pursed in thought. “Skye.” He said, rolling the name slowly on his tongue a couple of times. Then, his mouth seemed to split open, showing rows upon rows of long, sharp teeth, promptly scaring the shit out of me. It took me a few heart-stopping moments to realize that he was *grinning* at me in sheer glee.
“Skye. I like it!” The dragon declared. “It is easy to remember. Much easier than names I have had in the past. Even easier than my true name!”
At my puzzled look, he chuckled. “All familiars have a True Name, to protect them from rival magic users. You will learn it, when you finish signing the contract.”
I just blinked slowly, before I finally shrugged. “Okay… do I need to sign that in blood too, or do I need a pen?”
“Blood binds better, so it would be preferred.” The dragon responded, before offering up a thin needle from who-knows-where. I just accepted it, looking at the needle for a few moments.
‘You know what, might as well.’ I thought, before I pricked my finger, and with my finger I carefully wrote out my familiar’s name on the proper signature line.
