Seeing Double....

My name is - was - Robin Courtwright. I'm about 5'8", and I look pretty much like your regular, average girl, with short brown hair, a dull complexion, all that jazz. Guys have never really found me attractive. Well, scratch that, it's more accurate to say that the guys I have interest in are not the guys who have interest in me, and the guys who have interest in me are not the type of guys any body would want. I'm too tall for a girl, I'm not terribly curvy, and my breasts just aren't big enough for most guys taste.

When Daymon asked me to go into business with him, I leapt at the chance. I don't believe in magic like he does, but I do believe in independance, and working as a private detective has given me more freedom than I'd ever dare hope for. I never liked reporting to people - bosses, teachers, or what have you. I never liked accountability. I never liked assholes who think that they know what it's like to be in your position, people who think they know how much you should be able to achieve. Working with Daymon is freedom, pure and simple.

Before I met Robin Daymon, I was studious, dutiful, and quietly rebellious. I wasn't happy. I knew that even then. Somehow, though, my unhappiness just didn't seem worth getting riled up about, and I generally went about my daily routine with a minimum of thought or feeling. I was just relieved that I was almost done with college, that soon I'd be able to go on with my life. I hoped, obscurely, that whatever came next would be a bit less awful than what had come before.

I hated college. I hated professors telling me I was wrong just because I didn't agree with them. I hated students who got self righteous about every stupid little thing that happened in the world. I hated paying out the ass so that the biology department could buy new syringes - the old ones were old, don't you know - while the little forensics department I was in couldn't afford paper. I hated balancing two jobs, two bosses, two sets of customers. I hated never getting enough sleep. And I hated my roommate, likely to be fucking any time, day or night, regardless of my presence.

It was finals week. I was almost done. My last exam, my most important, was the next day. All I wanted to do was study in peace as I got home from work late that night. I knew it was futile, though. My roommate, who was what is frequently called a "screamer," could be heard from down the hall as I got home. Normally, at times like this, I would turn and walk the other way, go to the group study area and sit there and do my work. Normally, I would just wait until she was done, or, at worst, sleep in the study. That night, though I just couldn't take it anymore. I hadn't brought my books to work with me. I had to go into that fucking room. So deliberately, even premeditatively, I walked in on the slut's sexual escapades. I'll never forget the look on his face as I walked in, ignoring them completely. He was mortified. I didn't care. I just hoped he'd leave. He stayed, though, long enough to see me pick up my book on forensic psychology and start reading, and his expression shifted from pure shame (bright red) to calm and curious (slightly pinkish). He left soon after, pulling on his pants even as he hopped out the door.

After my exam the next day, I came home to find him there in my room again, though. I commented that it was impressive that he was actually wearing clothes again, and mentioned that I was pretty sure that my roommate would be out all day, when he told me that he wasn't there for her, he was there to speak to me. I almost threw him out - imagine trying to score twice in one day with a pair of roommates - but for some reason I decided to hear him out. I'm glad I did. He told me his name was Robin, that he suspected we had a lot in common. He told me about magic tricks. And he was right. We did have a whole lot in common.

I've never looked back.

*******

Robin laughed, carefully, turning her head, carefully adding a deep, sultry note to her humor. Seduction was an art that she had worked hard at perfecting. It was a tool, one of many she employed. While many women felt it was their main weapon, Robin knew better, and made sure to use sexual allure only when it was appropriate, just as she wouldn't use a hammer when a wrench was more appropriate.

Licking his lips, Rush stared unabashedly at her breasts, wringing his hands as if he could imagine himself touching them. He opened his mouth, then closed ti again. He licked his lips again. "Oh, Rush," she gushed, bending slightly to give him a better view of her cleavage, "you are so funny!" She giggled girlishly, raising a hand to her mouth, though only to emphasize, not cover. Robin might not be the most attractive girl around, but with a lot of make up and the right wardrobe, what she had could be accentuated enough to catch someone like Rush, who wasn't exactly a stud himself.

With a slight shudder, Rush regained his composure. Rising, hefting his paunch with difficulty, he moved to her side. Taking her hand, he kissed it with what he thought was culture grace, but was really just crass and a bit sloppy. "You are too kind, my dear," his voice wheezed unpleasantly. Still, as he released her hand she couldn't deny that he was, despite all his odious qualities, a smooth operator, for he had managed to slip a hotel key into her hand with enough subtlety to fool most, if not all, of the people present. "I look forward to our next meeting, whenever that might be," he tried to sound coy, and then turned and left.

Robin lifted her wine to her mouth, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. The newly acqured key was added to the stash where she had hidden the other two she had already obtained that evening. It was going to be a long night, but she felt fairly confident that it was worth it, that she would get the information that she sought. She had needed to barter for it, certainly. She'd promised Samantha Allerton, owner of the first key, a wealthy socialite, information about her husband's latest fling, easily done since Robin already knew that Mr. Allerton was deeply involved with a washed-up model turned high-end call girl named Alena. The second key belonged to Johnson Smith, a senator's aide desperate to depose his senator, who would do anything for a bit of political dirt. Robin had nothing for him, but she was confident that she could make up something plausible, and she knew that that would be adequate, fo all politicians suffer from any hint of scandal. As for Rush Blackwell, entreperneur and multi-millionaire, well, Robin knew exactly what he wanted. Some times such things just couldn't be helped. By morning, she'd know what she needed to know about her current case, which was to track down a missing girl named Avery Jones. Robin and her partner were confident that Ms. Jones had been sold into white slavery; the question was who had bought her and where was she now?

Well satisfied, Robin left the party gather the evidence she would need to convince her information sources before heading to their hotel rooms. She still had a long night ahead of her.

****

I always felt impatient when Robin was out late at night. There were things that happen late at night to dames that guys are safe from. As such, I made it a habit to take on late-night assignments myself. Robin, of course, hated that. "I'm a woman, not a cripple," she'd bitched at me, "I can take care of myself. I could kick your ass for sure, Daymon."

She was truly impossible sometimes.

I was supposed to be asleep. She'd made me promise to get some rest while she gathered the information. Then, once she was done, she'd wake me and I would go find our missing girl. As if I could sleep with a case this close to completion! There was a tension that built in me as a case progressed. I would hyper-focus, eat, sleep and breath it's details, constantly shifting information around in my head until all of the pieces fit together just right. Sometimes, I didn't sleep for days before the climax of an investigation. By then, the exhaustion played off the exhiliration to produce an experience that was so intense it was almost secual. That always bothered me, made me think I must be seriously fucked up, but at the same time it sure felt good.

It was 4:32 AM. God, waiting was unspeakably boring. She was late. I don't know why this bothered me. In our line of work, unexpected delays were the norm; both Robin and I were almost compulsively late to any appointment we had. Tonight, though, it bothered me a lot. I felt antsy and uncomfortable, and it pissed me off that I didn't know why.



And that's all for now! Next up, Drow fun for every body!

Drow and such

"We will take your proposal under consideration," Valanna said smoothly. The male turned to look at her, unsuccessfully attempting to hide his surprise. "We are not convinced that what you propose is in our best interest." She positioned herself carefully, before her mother and to her side, making it clear that what she spoke represented the will of House Zuluuth without undermining her mothers authority. Nearby, her sister nodded her agreement.

Annoyance flickered through his eyes. "Will all due respect, Eldest," he said, bowing slightly, "I was told to take nothing less than the word of a matron mother." The male was smirking at her. Valanna's mother remained silent.

"You will take what you have been given and no more," Valanna responded dismissively, letting her distaste for the male show on her face and in her voice. "Good day."

With a dark look at her, the male turned and left. She had given him no other choice, for as a female her words could force his actions, and he could not go against her directly. As the door closed behind him, Valanna turned to her sister, her twin Beliz, ignoring her mother, who remained seated on the spider throne. "What do you think, sister?" she asked. Valanna had already made her decision, but it was best to lead her young twin to believe that she had a say in the process.

Beliz sniffed disdanefully. "The male is a fool. We have no use for him or his house. How could we, House Zuluuth, 39th house of Menzoberranzan, possibly benefit from anything that the 45th house might offer?" Valanna nodded, as if in agreement, and though she had reached the same conclusion, she had actual reasons rather than the empty posturing of her sister. House 45, Clendaran, was bottom house in the city right now, desperately seeking a strong ally to protect them, desperately hoping to find someone who would think them useful enough or humorous enough to preserve. Zuluuth was in no position to burden itself with a weak ally; Zulluth needed to redirect all resources internally before any of the other houses of the city realized just how weak they were.

Dismissing these troubling thoughts, Valanna approached the throne one which her mother sat. "We have decided to reject the proposal of House Clenderan. Do you agree, Matron Sparatha?"

Her mother turned towards her, eytes unfocused. "Matron," Valanna said firmly, commandingly, "yes or no?" If her mother understood, though, she said nothing, gave no reply. A think line of spittle found it's way out of the corner of her mouth, dripping slowly off her chin. Trying to restrain her anger, Valanna wiped away the drool as if her mother were an infant. "Say YES, mother," Valanna said commandingly, knowing that she could use her inate abilities to command respect and authority, in born, her one true skill, to make her mother answer. She had walked down this road many times. No decision could be made for the house without her mothers approval. It didn't matter that Sparatha had no idea what she was agreeing to, had no idea what was going on in the world around her. Only a Matron Mother's word was law in the city of Menzoberranzan; without the matron's word the decision was meaningless.

"...yeth?" Sparatha formed the word weakly, apparently unsure of what the yes meant or what it signified. Valanna didn't care, though, for yes had been said, and that was adequate.

"Very good. Beliz, what is the next order of business?" Valanna asked, business-like once more, ignoring the renewed flow of drool from her mother's mouth.

"That is all for today, Eldest."

"Very good," she said again. "Thank you, Beliz, you may attend to your regular duties now."

Her sister left silently, and Valanna prepared for her nightly ritual in praise of Lolth. The ritual brought her comfort, brought her a sense of security that her day to day life no longer afforded her. It gave her an opportunity to clear her mind and appraise her situation, a situation that worsened every day. She had to think clearly, now more than ever, if House Zuluuth was to be preserved. She and Beliz had successfully hidden their mother's condition for almost six months, but every day it grew harder, every day those who came to speak to the Matron grew more insistent in their desire to hear the matron's own words. All of the houses were regrouping now that the war was over; once the old ways were reestablished in full, Sparatha's condition would be revealed, and House Zuluuth would be destroyed for ever daring to have such an egregious weakness as a Matron Mother who was completely disconnected from reality.

Intoning a praise to the spider queen, Valanna Zuluuth bathed in the love of the goddess, clearing her mind of everything but devotion. There was so much she needed to do, but there would be time enough tomorrow to address the conundrum that faced her.




And that is all for now! A note to anyone who reads this: if you know the name of April's character, please tell me! I can't recall for the life of me, and can't find an old character sheet that might say. :)

Fulfilling a Promise!

Remember how I promised that I'd post some writing? Well, after I finished my edit of Jen's story (which I did mostly in class) I started feeling really bored in class without anything to do. As such, I started writing in class! So now I'm gonna type stuff up and post it. Hopefully it doesn't all suck ass. :)

First of all, a follow up to that last short piece that I did - I'm not that happy with how this turned out, but usually when that I happens I post it anyway, and if it doesn't work out, I lock it later.

Second, I've done a very brief beginning to writing up the Drow game that I have been playing for over a year. I'm vaguely considering trying to write it up a LOT more extensively, but to do so I'll need to read a bunch of books (like War of the Spider Queen series) and also chit chat a bit with Top Hat, Jason, and the all mighty GM to get their views on stuff. So, if any of you are reading this (As if!) lemme know stuff about you, yo. :)

So anyway, onto the actual writing! (I'm forward dating this entry, so the writing will appear after it. Haha, take that!)

Unforth