VIENDA | VERY CLOCKING EARLY...OR LATE
They had laughed, and danced and played music as though nothing more than filthy wicks. Here, in the Green Room, there were no rules and no laws. Drugs and alcohol flowed freely, and occasionally some bright spark would cast a fancy spell that followed the noble rule of conquest so loosely it was prone to backlash more often than not. Tonight however, it had not, and under the influence of the perceptive magic far too many good family names were being properly tarnished.
“Xi. Xi get up. We should go.” Charity said through the bleary haze of the opioids in her system, shaking her friends shoulder. The dark haired girl didn’t even stir, beyond waking until the drugs wore off. Dragging herself off the lounge, the pianist carefully made her way over or around bodies on the floor, ignoring those still lucid enough to speak to her. It had been a stellar performance that evening, the young anaxi born woman playing first chair in the orchestra for Basil’s most recent play. After the proper mingling with guests of honor and all the proper decent people, the children of the theatre underworld disappeared to the real after party.
“Hey D’arthe. How about we go make a little magic, if you know what I mean?” One of the gentleman called out as she passed him, reaching for her hand and smirking with heavily dilated green eyes and auburn hair. Beside him swayed a heavily intoxicated brunette man with far more chin than anyone required. Charity chuckled and pulled away, shaking her head and making her way to the door.
“Sorry Benjamin, you know I’m not like that.” The woman said gently, finding her purse and her boots, slipping into the latter whilst smoothing out the creases in her ivory dress. She paused for a moment, her head less spinning and more drifting.
“Yeah, yeah. I know. But, I mean, surely just once isn’t going to hurt? We’ll be gentle.” Benjamin said, thumbing his lower lip as he looked the drugged blonde over. Charity steadied herself and grasped the handle.
“No. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.” She said firmly, violet eyes glancing at the man and his chin endowed companion before opening the door and stumbling out. It was still dark outside, the sun a good couple of hours from rising, but the petite musician wasn’t afraid. She knew Vienda like the back of her hand, and all the trick ways back to her father’s abode, over the back gate and through her bedroom window. Walking as briskly as she could, Charity followed her feet along the familiar back alley beside the theatre and along the drain that took excess rainy season water away from the city. Home was only a hop, skip and a jump away, as was her deliciously warm bed—
“Charity wait up.” The familiar voice of the auburn haired man called out from behind her. Stopping and turning with a frown, the blonde felt a small thrill of concern creep up her spine, field trying to gather with a wavering wobbly sort of motion. Tocks, she was in no position to cast like this. Both Benjamin and his companion were approaching, all friendly smiles if she didn’t know better. Their fields however, expressed something far less friendly, and Charity was smart enough to keep walking. Past her house, the young woman moved further along the street, heading towards Crosstown Court in the hope that she would come across a Seventen patrol as they walked. Her feet picked up, not quite running, but not quite walking.
“I said no Benjamin, leave me alone.” She said loudly, glancing back as the two men picked up their own pace. Swearing, Charity threw any sense of proper heel etiquette aside and broke into a run. Almost at the same time, the men ran to catch up with her, the brunette grabbing the blonde by the arm and making a shushing sound. The short woman took a deep breath, readying her lungs to scream, stopped short by the hand over her mouth. An arm snaked around her waist, lifting her easily off the ground and dragging her away into the shadows with hissed sounds to shut the tock up.
“Hold her, you lugger!” Benjamin growled to his companion as he reached for the fastenings on his pants, the auburn galdor grinning and stepping closer. Charity shook her head, breaking away from the hand over her mouth and cried out, struggling and turning her head away from his face.
“Help!” She managed to shout, much to the men’s frustration. From behind her, Chin breathed against her ear.
“Just stay still and shut your head Charity. It’ll be great, you’ll see. Just—ah fuck!” He yelped as the panicked woman threw her head back to smack him in the face. Blood immediately gushed from his nose and he dropped her. Landing heavily on hands and knees, the girl scrambled to her feet, panting with adrenaline and fear. Benjamin leapt to stop her, sprawling across the back of her legs and smacking her headfirst into the cobblestone. Charity saw stars and her ears rang, a small gash opening on her forehead where she’d met the filthy cold stones.
“I tried to be nice Charity. I tried...” He growled, reaching for her skirts with his free hand.