Ok, it's me again. Thank you, my two reviewers. It would be easier to
understand if you read the books, Matro. Even if you can't do that, it'll
start making more sense in later chapters, as I'll start explaining myself
as I go along. (Oh, by the way, if there are any missing or extra S's,
you'll have to forgive me. That particular key is stuck on my keyboard.)
In case you hadn't noticed, I finally completed chapter two, and (after a long search for a suitable floppy disc) got it posted here. Chapter 3 is probably going to take even longer, since I have barely started it. Later on, it will start going faster since I started this fic in the middle. Well, without further ado, here's the fic!
Oops, almost forgot. *Disclaimer: I do not own Forgotten Realms, Drizzt, or any other recognizable characters. Lahna, Michelle, and the blonde man are mine, as are several other future characters. Borrow them if you like, but I'm not sure why anyone would want to. ____________________________________________________________________________
_________
Marking the Years
Exactly one year had gone by, and Lahna was a very different person. Now her light hair was typically pulled back into a sloppy ponytail to keep it our of her eyes. Those eyes had grown harder, colder somehow, and now glared at you like shards of purple stone. Her entire wardrobe, once expansive and full of bright colors, consisted entirely of two faded black shirts, two pair of ripped out jeans, and a shiny black leather jacket. She was every inch the biker chick.
The biggest changes, though, were on the inside. The sudden loss of the only family she had ever known had made her bitter, but at the same time curious about her real family. What were they like? Did she have brothers and sisters? Aunts and uncles? Were her parents together? Were they even alive? Answering those questions, along with finding out why her adoptive family had been incinerated, became her all-consuming quest. Cast adrift, alone, she used the money she had inherited by being the closest living relative left to most of those who had died in that explosion to buy a motorcycle and wander the country, hoping against hope that she might find her answers.
Believing that something so important needed to be remembered in style, she found herself pulling her bike up to a sleazy little bar in her hometown on the anniversary of the event that changed her life so dramatically.
Lahna walked into a cloud of smoke, and gave a single appraising glance around the place. Satisfied with the number of drunks already slumped over the bar and tables, she made her way to a stool in a corner. There were enough boozers in there that one more would not be noticed. The bartender took longer than she would have liked to get to her, but he eventually made his way over to where she sat, alone. "Whatcha want, honey?" He asked. "Vodka." Lahna answered quietly, "Lots of vodka." The bartender whistled, "You look kinda young fer somthin' like that. I'm gonna need to see yer ID." She slapped her license down on the bar in annoyance and snapped, "I'm 25 and I want my damn liquor." He checked her card and, without another word, put a full shot glass in front of her. She knocked it back, grimaced, and demanded, "Another."
"What's wrong, honey?" One man who was not so drunk as to be incapable of coherent speech asked her, reading her pain as if it were stamped in bold red letters across her forehead. She smiled grimly into her glass and said, "I'm marking an anniversary." "You seem kinda dull to be celebratin'." He replied. "I never said it was pleasant." Lahna retorted sharply, then snapped at the bartender, "Are you going to get me another, or do I have to get it myself?" He complied, and then wandered off to take someone else's order. "A little grumpy aren't we?" The man remarked. "I have a right to be." She muttered quietly before swallowing the fiery liquid. She motioned for the barkeep to come back over and told him, "You might as well just leave the bottle." When her server had walked away again, the not-quite-drunkard asked, "What's your problem? You look like somebody died." Sudden memory brought tears to Lahna's eyes. Blinking them back, she spat, "It's none of your damn business!" "Now just a minute- " "I said," She interrupted, her voice deadly calm and her eyes chips of lavender ice, "it's none of your damn business. Now be on your way." The man saw a world of pain in her eyes, and knew if he didn't withdraw he would be in it. Slowly, he backed up and finally left the girl to her drink. "If there's one thing I can't stand, it's a nosy drunk." Lahna muttered into her glass, then emptied it again. She spent the next hour or so seeing how drunk she could get herself before passing out.
She wasn't even close when a drunken idiot behind her started singing.
"Rainy night in Georgia, Kentucky rain, here comes that rainy day feelin' again..." The off-key voice faded out as the girl began to relive painful memories again. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" A dull thunk pulled her from the past's clutches. One of the singer's companions had smacked him upside the head and slurred, "Shut up you idiot. You're depressing the hell outta me." "Ow!! What was that for, Michelle?" The amateur singer exclaimed, but stopped the torture. Again, Lahna began muttering into her glass. "Thank god." She remarked. Apparently, though, she was more intoxicated than she thought, and it came out louder she had planned. Michelle heard her, and turned to face her. Upon seeing Lahna's face, she got out of her chair and wondered, a little unsteadily, to the darker girl's stool. "Hey, I know you! It'd be hard to forget a face like that. You were in the store I was working at, the day that wedding reception blew up. And you were on the news afterwards, too. You just kept cryin' and screamin' like you had gone nuts or somethin'." Lahna's eyes lost focus as the memory one more pushed through the fog of alcohol. **************************************************************************** ************** FLASH "She says there were people in there!" The fireman shook his head and yelled back, "Nothing could be alive in that! Get her out of here!" The cop started to say something to the hysterical woman in his arms, but she had heard the fireman's reply. His kind words were drowned out by her shrill scream of denial. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" FLASH **************************************************************************** ************** Her past echoing shrilly in her own head, Lahna swallowed another shot against the sudden tightness in her throat. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to get rid of this woman. Drunken anger flared to life within her, burning off the debilitating effects of downing so much vodka. "Fuck off." She said quietly. "What did you just say?" Michelle whispered in disbelief. Courage boosted by alcohol, Lahna repeated loudly, "I said, 'Fuck off.'" "I KNOOOOOOW YOU DIDN'T!!" Michelle bellowed, and threw Lahna's half full(or half empty?) bottle at the other woman's head. Inebriated as she was, she missed by a mile. Still, Lahna's rage reached a boiling point due to the waste of her drink. Her fist connected squarely with Michelle's chin, knocking the woman backwards. Right into a man carrying his mug back to his table.
That man fell into a group, spilling beer everywhere. He started to apologize, but was cut off by a fist. One of his buddies came over to even the score, and an all-out brawl soon ensued. Only one person was not participating in the melee. A slim blonde man just sat at his table sipping his drink and watching with obvious amusement.
Lahna, firmly caught up in the battle and glad to be there, did not notice. She was in her element, hurling fists and feet and the occasional shot glass with a speed and accuracy she never knew she possessed. She was untouchable. That is, until Michelle recovered her footing, and swung a pool cue at Lahna's head. This time, she did not miss. The world went black.
Poor Lahna just can't catch a break, can she? Hopefully, she'll have better luck later on.
I need a name for a drow, if anyone can think of one. I have a house name, I just need the first. Put it in a review, if you would. Well, I'm in class, so I should probably wrap this up. Read and review, and feel free to flame of course.
In case you hadn't noticed, I finally completed chapter two, and (after a long search for a suitable floppy disc) got it posted here. Chapter 3 is probably going to take even longer, since I have barely started it. Later on, it will start going faster since I started this fic in the middle. Well, without further ado, here's the fic!
Oops, almost forgot. *Disclaimer: I do not own Forgotten Realms, Drizzt, or any other recognizable characters. Lahna, Michelle, and the blonde man are mine, as are several other future characters. Borrow them if you like, but I'm not sure why anyone would want to. ____________________________________________________________________________
_________
Marking the Years
Exactly one year had gone by, and Lahna was a very different person. Now her light hair was typically pulled back into a sloppy ponytail to keep it our of her eyes. Those eyes had grown harder, colder somehow, and now glared at you like shards of purple stone. Her entire wardrobe, once expansive and full of bright colors, consisted entirely of two faded black shirts, two pair of ripped out jeans, and a shiny black leather jacket. She was every inch the biker chick.
The biggest changes, though, were on the inside. The sudden loss of the only family she had ever known had made her bitter, but at the same time curious about her real family. What were they like? Did she have brothers and sisters? Aunts and uncles? Were her parents together? Were they even alive? Answering those questions, along with finding out why her adoptive family had been incinerated, became her all-consuming quest. Cast adrift, alone, she used the money she had inherited by being the closest living relative left to most of those who had died in that explosion to buy a motorcycle and wander the country, hoping against hope that she might find her answers.
Believing that something so important needed to be remembered in style, she found herself pulling her bike up to a sleazy little bar in her hometown on the anniversary of the event that changed her life so dramatically.
Lahna walked into a cloud of smoke, and gave a single appraising glance around the place. Satisfied with the number of drunks already slumped over the bar and tables, she made her way to a stool in a corner. There were enough boozers in there that one more would not be noticed. The bartender took longer than she would have liked to get to her, but he eventually made his way over to where she sat, alone. "Whatcha want, honey?" He asked. "Vodka." Lahna answered quietly, "Lots of vodka." The bartender whistled, "You look kinda young fer somthin' like that. I'm gonna need to see yer ID." She slapped her license down on the bar in annoyance and snapped, "I'm 25 and I want my damn liquor." He checked her card and, without another word, put a full shot glass in front of her. She knocked it back, grimaced, and demanded, "Another."
"What's wrong, honey?" One man who was not so drunk as to be incapable of coherent speech asked her, reading her pain as if it were stamped in bold red letters across her forehead. She smiled grimly into her glass and said, "I'm marking an anniversary." "You seem kinda dull to be celebratin'." He replied. "I never said it was pleasant." Lahna retorted sharply, then snapped at the bartender, "Are you going to get me another, or do I have to get it myself?" He complied, and then wandered off to take someone else's order. "A little grumpy aren't we?" The man remarked. "I have a right to be." She muttered quietly before swallowing the fiery liquid. She motioned for the barkeep to come back over and told him, "You might as well just leave the bottle." When her server had walked away again, the not-quite-drunkard asked, "What's your problem? You look like somebody died." Sudden memory brought tears to Lahna's eyes. Blinking them back, she spat, "It's none of your damn business!" "Now just a minute- " "I said," She interrupted, her voice deadly calm and her eyes chips of lavender ice, "it's none of your damn business. Now be on your way." The man saw a world of pain in her eyes, and knew if he didn't withdraw he would be in it. Slowly, he backed up and finally left the girl to her drink. "If there's one thing I can't stand, it's a nosy drunk." Lahna muttered into her glass, then emptied it again. She spent the next hour or so seeing how drunk she could get herself before passing out.
She wasn't even close when a drunken idiot behind her started singing.
"Rainy night in Georgia, Kentucky rain, here comes that rainy day feelin' again..." The off-key voice faded out as the girl began to relive painful memories again. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" A dull thunk pulled her from the past's clutches. One of the singer's companions had smacked him upside the head and slurred, "Shut up you idiot. You're depressing the hell outta me." "Ow!! What was that for, Michelle?" The amateur singer exclaimed, but stopped the torture. Again, Lahna began muttering into her glass. "Thank god." She remarked. Apparently, though, she was more intoxicated than she thought, and it came out louder she had planned. Michelle heard her, and turned to face her. Upon seeing Lahna's face, she got out of her chair and wondered, a little unsteadily, to the darker girl's stool. "Hey, I know you! It'd be hard to forget a face like that. You were in the store I was working at, the day that wedding reception blew up. And you were on the news afterwards, too. You just kept cryin' and screamin' like you had gone nuts or somethin'." Lahna's eyes lost focus as the memory one more pushed through the fog of alcohol. **************************************************************************** ************** FLASH "She says there were people in there!" The fireman shook his head and yelled back, "Nothing could be alive in that! Get her out of here!" The cop started to say something to the hysterical woman in his arms, but she had heard the fireman's reply. His kind words were drowned out by her shrill scream of denial. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" FLASH **************************************************************************** ************** Her past echoing shrilly in her own head, Lahna swallowed another shot against the sudden tightness in her throat. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to get rid of this woman. Drunken anger flared to life within her, burning off the debilitating effects of downing so much vodka. "Fuck off." She said quietly. "What did you just say?" Michelle whispered in disbelief. Courage boosted by alcohol, Lahna repeated loudly, "I said, 'Fuck off.'" "I KNOOOOOOW YOU DIDN'T!!" Michelle bellowed, and threw Lahna's half full(or half empty?) bottle at the other woman's head. Inebriated as she was, she missed by a mile. Still, Lahna's rage reached a boiling point due to the waste of her drink. Her fist connected squarely with Michelle's chin, knocking the woman backwards. Right into a man carrying his mug back to his table.
That man fell into a group, spilling beer everywhere. He started to apologize, but was cut off by a fist. One of his buddies came over to even the score, and an all-out brawl soon ensued. Only one person was not participating in the melee. A slim blonde man just sat at his table sipping his drink and watching with obvious amusement.
Lahna, firmly caught up in the battle and glad to be there, did not notice. She was in her element, hurling fists and feet and the occasional shot glass with a speed and accuracy she never knew she possessed. She was untouchable. That is, until Michelle recovered her footing, and swung a pool cue at Lahna's head. This time, she did not miss. The world went black.
Poor Lahna just can't catch a break, can she? Hopefully, she'll have better luck later on.
I need a name for a drow, if anyone can think of one. I have a house name, I just need the first. Put it in a review, if you would. Well, I'm in class, so I should probably wrap this up. Read and review, and feel free to flame of course.
