2-9-2001

Uhhh, let's see. Twas supposed to ba an AU fantasy... Dunno if this qualifies... Twas supposed to have a dark Duo... I guess he is. Um... I dunno if it was supposed to be so, uh, freaky... Also, I didn't even bother to spell check or anything, but I didn;t want to be late, so I posted it anyway... It'll probably be reposted eventually. Along with the next part.

Mer-chan:
*Glare* I hope you're happy. Well, actually, I do hope you're happy with this... ^_^ I don't know if this counts a fantasy, since it's kinda set modern-ish, but... ^_^;; Anyway, Dark Duo is really different from how I usually write him, so this was kinda hard for me, but I hope I did alright. Every once in a while I'd find myself lightening up, having him make jokes that weren't bitter, and I'm like "ARRGH! DAMMIT!! Be dark! Dark!!" And I couldn't believe how citrus-ish it was. but I dunno... See how you like...

 

Uh, I didn't bother to think up a title... so... whatever...
It's by me, Naraku, though ^_^;;

 

 

It always amuses me that people think I'm funny. I mean, I can see why they would, it is, after all, what I want them to think, but I can never stop myself from wondering if they would still laugh if they knew what I am. Actually, I don't have to wonder, I know. Of course they would still laugh, they would laugh at me. My kind isn't exactly known for their intelligence.

I always wear a hat, so they don't know. It's not a particularly exciting hat, just a nondescript baseball cap, but I'm rather attached to it. It's black and comes down low over my ears, so it suits my purposes.

"Why the hell do you always wear black? And that damn baseball cap?" The guy that owns the bar where I work, Hubcap, asks me all the time. "Why don't you wear what I tell you to wear?" He'll snarl.

I have a thousand questions I could ask the bastard "Why the hell is your name Hubcap, you freak?" "Why are you so damn ugly?" "Why do you keep such a hell-hole of a bar up and running?" "Why don't you know I'm gonna fucking kill you one day, you son of a bitch?"

But I don't. Instead I grin like a normal person, a person at all, and say, "If the customers don't complain, why should I change?"

He'll spit tobacco on my shirt and say, "No one can be as happy as you. You some kinda nut case?" Every time. Without fail. You'd think after five years of the same argument, he'd come up with something new, but he never does. Dumb fuck.

I sing there, at his stinking pit he calls a bar. All the guys love me, like I'm their idol or something, and it pains me to see everyday how moronic the entire world is. But I sing there anyway, until I can make enough money to get out of here. I don't even have to eat, so it shouldn't be taking me this long, but the bastard doesn't pay me what I deserve. He says it's because I don't wear the damn outfits he says to. But they're fucking dresses and skirts and shit like that, and there is no way in hell I'm ever gonna dress up like a damn woman. I don't even like them, why the hell would I want to be one?

So I wear my black leather pants and my tanktops and mesh shirts, and the assholes in the audience get just as horney as seeing a guy in a miniskirt, so why the hell should Hubcap care?

Whenever I'm not at work, I'm in my room, my one-room dingy-ass apartment. Right now I'm standing in front of my chipped full-length mirror. It needs to be re-silvered. I'm standing here in nothing but my hair, and my hat it hanging off the post of my tiny metal-framed bed. I run a hand across my chest. Oh yeah, I'm sexy and I know it. I grin ferally at the mirror, the young man across from me grinning back. Then we snarl simultaneously at my stupidity. Yeah, grin at a mirror, great, I have such a life. Damn, I'd get a boyfriend, but who the hell wants to fuck with a guy who insists on leaving his hat on through the whole thing? Or I could just take it off, yeah, like that'd go over real well.

I bring a finger up to my ear, tracing the edge up to the pointed tip, then back down to the side of my head. Ears like no human has. Which makes sense. I'm not a human. I'm an elf-orc crossbreed. My mother was this beautiful elf, only thirteen years older than me. Some asshole that doesn't deserve to be called my father saw her on a street and decided she was pretty. Full-blooded orcs are the stupidest things. They only know how to kill and have sex. Or rather, rape young girls of any species. She told me when I was old enough to understand, that the humans walking by had heard her screaming, but had done nothing to help. And the occasional elf had been to chicken shit and lazy to lift a fucking finger. I don't have a very high opinion of either side of my ancestry, as you can tell. Except my mother, who was the nicest creature, human, fey or brute I have ever known. Until the life-mate of the orc who raped her hunted her down and killed her for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. My mother hid me in a cupboard, and I was too scared to go out and tell the bitch what I was, and that I should die too for being the child of such a horrible act.

Yeah. I was too scared. There was my elf side showing its true colors, huh? I guess I should at least be happy that the mix of genes I got helped me survive a bit in this world. Elves look just like pretty humans, but small, with pointed ears. Anyone under four feet is in immediate suspicion of being an elf. But I got lucky; I got the height of my orc sire, but none of his ugliness. I never saw him, but I know he was ugly. All orcs are. And stupid, but then again so are elves. I loved my mother, but she was damn stupid, even by elf standards. That's probably why I'm such a fucking moron.

I inherited some of the worse aspects of that bastard orc, too. I'm an idiot, all I think about is killing all those people who've made my life hell, and if I could get any, sex would be one hell of a large part of my life. I would never even consider rape, though, which is about the only thing I have going for me. As it is, jerking off is pretty much a nightly routine for me.

Damn, I'm on a fucking wire here, just thinking about jerking myself off makes me hard. Aw fuck. I think about a couple of the cuter morons in my life, as my hand strays downward. And I pretend the guy in the mirror is someone else.

===========================================

I pick myself up off the floor when I'm done. Damn I wish I knew what it was like with another person. I'm 48 fricking years old, and I'm still a damn virgin. Well, I've still got another 100 some years left to find him. Yeah, him. The guy who's like me, half elf, half orc, bitter to the world, and most importantly, gay. Yeah, there's really no point in finding him if he's not gay. Well, now that I've established that I'm going to die a virgin, unless I pick up some whore who doesn't give a damn as long as he's paid, it's time to go to work.

"Damn shit" I mutter, wiping at the mess on my stomach. Now I'm gonna have to take a shower. I wish coming wasn't so messy, or I think I'd do it a lot more than I already do. Of course, if I were human, I'd come more than I do. I'd get a boyfriend, maybe get a better apartment, where we could make racist jokes about everything non-human, and never have to know how they felt. And I'd know what it would be like to be able to pretend someone loved me. Yeah, even if I were human, I'd still be pretending, because love doesn't exist. Lust, yeah, that definitely exists. Friendship, maybe. But the closest you're gonna get to that mythical thing called love is strong lust with a little bit of friendship.

But at least I would be able to pretend. It's hard to pretend your hand is in love with you.

Aw fuck, I've been sitting here thinking again, not getting ready for work. What the hell. I just wipe the cum off and get dressed. Why bother with a shower? It's not like everyone else at the bar doesn't smell like sex.

I pull on a pair of skintight black leather pants and a dark red lace up shirt, to show off my chest. Then I look at myself in the mirror again. I look like a fucking whore, but that's the idea, huh? Just to keep the look, I find my kohl to outline my eyes, and out on just the slightest bit of lipgloss. I hate that shit. Before getting out of here, I braid my hair back so it's not in my way, throw on a long black coat, and pull the baseball cap over my eyes, making sure to tuck my ears in. No one knows what I am, not since mom died. And that's good, cause if you're not human around here, you're not fit to lick the shit off the least respected human's boots.

I open the window and jump down three stories to the alleyway below, my coat and braid flying up behind me, so I don't have to deal with those fuckers that harass me every time I step out of my apartment. I don't know what their deal is, but they won't leave me the hell alone. Hey, just because you're supposedly human, doesn't mean you'll get respect.

I run out of the stinking alley, trying not to breathe, and step out onto the city streets. I'm immediately swept away by people who don't give a shit where anyone else is going as long as they get where they want to go, but I'm used to it, and it doesn't piss me off any more than any other day of this shit. I hug my coat tight around my body and hang onto my cap, so no one can see what I'm wearing or what my ears look like. Fuck I hate the city.

I'm going to be late to work if I don't hurry, cause of all that thinking I was doing back at my apartment. Hell, I don't even know why I bother, I've been told enough times what a dumbass I am, so it seems like I'm just wasting perfectly good thoughts that could have gone to someone who could do something with them. I don't know why anyone would want my thoughts, though. It probably would be easier if I didn't think at all, and just did all this shit without my brain. You know, store it up for when I get out of here, cause I might need to think then.

I'm thinking so hard again, that I don't notice I'm nearly to the bar I work at, until I look up and see Hubcap standing just outside the door. He's not wearing a coat, but I can see his breath in front of him, so I wonder if he doesn't care, or just doesn't realize he's cold. I'd be willing to believe he's that stupid. When I realize I'm practically right on top of the place, I make a sharp turn across the sidewalk, slipping through the people. I'm about five feet away from the door, when this guy, running down the sidewalk comes crashing into me. "Shit!" I land hard on my ass, and I all I can think is that my coat's probably dirty now. I look over at the guy who ran into me, who's also on his ass, trying to stand up. "Watch where you're going asshole!" While I'm yelling at him, I can't help but notice how hot he is. I haven't seen him around, but this is one hell of a huge city, so I don't wonder why.

He's a human guy, probably a little taller than me, with short dark hair and these big blue eyes, he's wearing a business suit and had a briefcase, before it was knocked out of his hand. Heh, he's got "yuppie" written all over his ass. But it's a damn good-looking ass, or so I notice as he bends over to retrieve a paper from the mud. Meanwhile, I'm still sitting on the concrete, which is when I notice something horribly wrong.

My hat. Where the fuck is my hat?

"Maxwell, you bastard! What the fuck? Did you think I wouldn't find out what you are? If you show up at my bar again, I'll have your ugly elf ass skinned and put on display, and don't even think about asking for your paycheck, freak!" Hubcap had seen me, and now he knew what I was, and I had lost my fucking job. Great, just fucking great. I want to kill the bastard, I don't know if I'm talking about Hubcap or the asshole who ran into me, who's now running off in the same direction, oblivious. No way, I'm sure as hell not turning to homicide now! I clench my fist and punch it into the sidewalk I'm still sitting on, punching down about a three-inch circle of concrete with little cracks splintering off the sides. I probably broke most of the bones, and there's blood dripping down my arm, but I don't give a flying fuck, as I jump to my feet and run after the bastard who ran into me. It's his damn fault!

I catch up to him, recognizing his coat, hair and the big mud stain down his back. I would laugh at the way he looks, but I know I look the same, and I'm too fucking mad to laugh anyway! I grab his shoulder, knowing I'm probably breaking it, but not caring, and spin him around. "Bastard! I should fucking kill you!"

He's staring at me, not I afraid, like I would have thought. "Why?" He doesn't even seem to care about his broken shoulder. This guy's weird! But I keep screaming at him.

"You made me loose my job, asshole! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a fucking job with ears like this? I was almost outta here, too!"

"You're not a human."

"No SHIT!"

"So that's why you were wearing the hat." Damn he's freaky. I know I'm scary when I'm mad, and most guys that look like him would've shit themselves by now. But he's completely calm.

"YEAH that's why I was wearing the damn hat!"

"Let go of my shoulder." I do, and his arm falls limply to his side. "You broke it."

I just stare at him. "What the hell is up with you? Why aren't you scared?"

"I have money." He said, not answering the question, and changing to a completely different topic.

I stare at him harder, incredulously. "You think I'm some kind of fucking prostitute?!"

"No, but you're dressed like one." I wrap my coat tight around my body. "That's not what I meant though. I made you lose your job, so I'll pay you to make up for it. However much you need to get out of here."

I sneer at him "I don't take charity."

"Then do something for me."

"So now I'm a prostitute, huh?" I ask him, still sneering.

"You. Are an elf. You are male. I'm not trying to get into your pants. Come with me, I'm late, we can talk about it after my presentation."

Okay, that one hurt me. And as I tag along behind the bastard, I wonder why. I think I might have wanted him to want me. At least then I would have had the experience if I ever find him. Him.