It's evening in the city, and, as the sun sets over the towering skyscrapers their shadows are lit with rainbow hues. In the entertainment district, called "Siren's Cove" by locals, the air is electric. Neon lights flash with advertisements for everything from sex clubs to high-stakes games, promising one-of-a-kind experiences for your next luminous addiction.
Not the kind of place I like to find myself after work, I'd much rather head back to my apartment and unwind with a few drinks, but today I was meeting an old friend. We hadn't seen each other for years, and he promised me a drink on him, so I begrudgingly agreed.
Crowds woven with all sorts of folk, from humans to elves, to orcs and dwarves, filled the streets. Elves were the most noticeable, even if they were the rarest. You saw few. Orc and green-kin slink about, though some are proud to show their heritage, while the other stock mingle with less fervent distinction. A dwarf hocking food at a stall, a group of three halflings dancing in a window—I'm disappointed to say it caught my attention for a moment—all common types you'd see around the city, though, in the city no-one need be common for long.
From skinjob augments to cyber-glaze tech, this is the city to get chipped and modded—the land of endless possibility. Still, none of that's really my thing, I've always preferred to focus on staying grounded, making the best of it the human way. No mods, just me.
As I walked towards our meeting spot, the city buzzed around me, a cacophony of neon sounds, scents, and tastes. I swear someone's selling sweet grass on every street corner, it's impossible to get away from. The aroma of something exotic wafts across my nose from time to time, a hint of roasted herbs, maybe both mixed in with some exotic new synth protein, and I can practically hear the slurping sound some liqueurs make when you sip them, the silken, sugary smoothness running down your throat. It's overwhelming sometimes, the barrage of sensations and smells, but it never fails to inspire an appetite.
Club Siel-Sidhe, it's called, where we're supposed to be meeting. Supposed to be high-end, which spooked me enough. There was a line. And a troll bouncer. He looked big enough to bench-press semitrucks.
There I was, almost finding myself, like my legs didn't carry me this far, standing like an idiot in a line full of beautiful, stylish folk I felt so far from. I couldn't shake the feeling like I was an outsider, like a peasant at the ball. My clothes didn't fit in. The music was just background noise for the chatter, laughter, and jeering of patrons and barflies.
I wasn't exactly disappointed when the troll growled, "You're not on the list."
"Uh," people were looking. "I'm supposed to meet a friend," why did I care? It wasn't like I was invested. Heat rose to my cheeks, "his name's Ravett?"
"Ravett?" the troll paused a moment, then looked me up and down, then back to my face. "I wouldn't let him in, either." He pushed me out of the line, "Fuck off, cowtooth."
I sighed and ran my hand over my hair. The slur didn't really sting, they fell flat for humans usually, and I didn't really want to get in that much. I gave a nod and was prepared to walk off when a tight grip around my arm caught me by surprise.
"Hey babe!" a sweet, bubbly voice giggled out. "Thanks for holding the line!"
Her long white-silver hair falling in waves down to her thin frame swayed a bit with her excited movements. I didn't have time to take her in before she was acting, fixing the troll with an icy stare, one I hoped didn't mean any trouble for me.
"He's with me!" she pressed her little chest forward, as if emphasizing the point. "We're meeting ... meeting friends!" she decided. The girl was clearly into her drinks, and a bit of something else maybe. "You can let him in, I know them!"
"Pshhhh." The troll exhaled and let us pass without objection.
The girl took my hand and lead me inside, weaving past a security guard with the same augmentation as the troll. It didn't stop her; she smiled, pulled me past. It all happened so fast I barely had time to think.
"I, um," I jabbered uselessly. My mouth was moving without my brain. "I didn't ask–"
"No worries!" Her voice was light, she was beautiful. Purple lip-stick. Violet eyes, pale skin that blushed exaggeratedly pink into red. She wasn't human. So pretty. Weren't elves usually taller? I noticed that she was wearing heels then, and surprised to see that the heels seemed to be fashioned to look like rifles at the stems. She was wearing this tight white dress with green lines on it that seemed to glow—it clung to her slender frame, beneath a lemon-yellow fur shawl draped over her dainty shoulders. She caught me staring and giggled, pushing me with her hip. "You're checking me out!" she cooed, and pulled me towards a glowing green archway.
"Your friends—"
We passed the threshold into a nightclub so intense that for a moment it felt as if all the light in the universe had vanished and every ounce of sight had focused the little accents and neon lights on peoples' clothes, their jewelry, their augments, or whatever. And she was wrapped around my arm like a cuff.
I felt her pull, her heat, an alien excitement rushing over me like a wave with her dusky perfume. And so she pulled, her little hands clutching to me for purchase as she spoke with all the enthusiasm of someone who'd never run dry. "They're boring," she insisted, pulling me with her toward the bar, where a wall of liquid neon glowed in shifting colors like a cascade of light.
She pulled me to the bar, where a crowd seemed to move in perfect unison with the beat of the music, like a throbbing heartbeat. A harried orcish bartender was going to and fro, trying to keep the crowd satiated "Two BitterBubbles!" she exclaimed, adding onto it.
Before I could protest, two ridiculously whimsical cocktail glasses were rowed up before the orc woman flew away again and, like a performer, she came back with the right bottles, twisting and twirling the necks in a display of precision.
Then the bubbly drink was placed before us, and my lithe companion scooped hers up with a flourish. She took a delicate sip and purred with delight. Her purple lipstick remained intact on the glass, barely sipped.
The orc stared at us for a second, then shook her head. "You better be ready to pay for the booth," she growled, and wove her way off again.
I nodded, fumbling for my wallet in the meantime, where the girl perched up on a seat, leaning back against the bar with a perfectly arched brow.
"Drinking on someone else's cred doesn't sit right?" she ventured.
"Never has before." I offered a strained smile.
She laughed.
"Why would you help me like that?" I asked finally.
The girl shrugged. "Human men," she sighed, tilting her head as her tone deepened. She sounded more lucid suddenly. "So uptight. Always in a rush. Why, don't I seem like fun?" she winked.
"Oh–" I faltered, taking a moment to take it all in. "I'm, uh, here to meet a friend."
The girl leaned into me and giggled. "Great! I'll be your friend!" she winked conspiratorially and held up her drink for a toast. "Can't be alone out here, ya know? It could get hairy."
"Maybe so," I grinned sheepishly.
"Let's see," she tilted her head and scanned over me. "Tallish ... cute ..." She smiled at my blushing face and continued. "Mmmm... Well, I'm not too picky." Her eyes twinkled.
"My name's Teardew," she smiled. "You?"
"David," I blinked.
She giggled again, "Nice to meet ya, Davey!" She clinked my glass, taking a heartier sip.
I took the opportunity to look at my phone and sipped my drink as well, letting the sweet, sourish, fruity flavors roll across my tongue. It was like drinking liquid candy as I tried to type out a message with my thumb.
'Where R U?' I sent him.
There was no immediate response, so I checked the rest of my messages just to be sure. He said he'd be here.
A small, delicate hand reached for my arm, and the elf leaned against me, peering at the messages on my phone. Her touch sent a tingling thrill through me. Her body pressed into mine, supple and soft and warm. "So what's so important here, hon?" She hummed, resting her head on my shoulder.
This must be what a bug feels like before it gets squashed. My phone buzzed and I looked at it.
'Hey sorry! Stuck at work, can't make it. See you around man. Really sorry.'
Teardew grabbed the phone and scowled at it. "Pshhhh," she shook her head, as if disappointed. Then she sighed and grinned at me, violet eyes mischievous, "Looks like we both got stood up tonight, huh?"
A small fluttering began in the center of my chest at the sight of her grin, and suddenly the thought of going home alone didn't sound so good. It made me nervous.
"Guess it looks like that, yeah." I was suddenly very aware that the alcohol was getting to me already.
"So, how 'bout we make the best of it and hang out," Teardew tilted her head, peering up at me with a wicked grin.
She was up on her feet, tugging me along now. There was nothing else to do but follow this feisty little elf around the neon-soaked streets.
In this kind of lighting, anything could look beautiful, the dark shapes and outlines and the flashing lights that glittered across the surface of anything metal, any jewelry, all looked so radiant in the instant.
So there we were. Teardew, a svelte, beautiful elf girl with silvery-white hair that seemed to glow in the electric-lit darkness. Me, a real nobody, watching her from what felt like the distance, like it all happened to somebody else. She was a beacon, a bright spot in this otherwise hazy and indistinct dream world. Her smile was like the moon, luminous and captivating, and for a moment, I allowed myself to believe that, maybe, this could be fine. That I could get swept up in her typhoon and everything would turn out alright.
With a gentle tug and a playful smirk, Teardew lead me to a secluded place in the night club. The "booth." It was a circular room, like a hidden grotto set apart from the rest of the world, and in the center was a sunken couch surrounded by lush plants and glowing plants with iridescent leaves.
It was there that she turned towards me, her hands already gliding over the front of my shirt, making it difficult to keep my cool. Her fingers were skilled, deft, and searching in their movements. It felt like a dance; each press of her fingertips sent a pulse of warmth racing through my body until I was fully erect and throbbing for her.
She giggled, murmuring huskily, "I just wanna find me a BHC tonight," and her fingers drifted down, tracing over the front of my jeans where my erection throbbed.
Now I wasn't stupid. I knew exactly what she was referring to. Big Human Cock.
"Wait, what?"
"Ah, nothing!," Teardew tittered, ignoring my protest.