Fate. Destiny. Kharma. The grand design. Whatever you call it, the universe has a way of giving someone exactly what they need. Even if they don’t know they need it. Even if it’s not obvious at the time. In one quiet corner of the universe, two strangers came together, like gears in a great machine,each giving the other exactly what they needed.
The Tar Pit was a hole-in the-wall theme bar, a not-so-well-kept secret among the city’s anthropes. After taking the stairs down from the busy street above, one found themselves in an isolated little world, a long, narrow room with maybe two dozen tables and booths all together. The walls were painted with a sprawling mural, a scene of pristine, primordial nature that transitioned through the eras of prehistoric life in sequence, from an aquatic cambrian near the entrance to an arctic pleistocene on the back wall. The bar itself was a seamless surface of polished black glass. The furniture was all bamboo, or at least painted to look like it, and a dozen emerald ferns were scattered throughout the place, on the walls between booths and the shelves behind the bar. There were only a few staff, a burly, looming bronto bouncer by the front door, a feathered raptor waitress with a sharp-toothed smile, and the stoic, stocky triceratops polishing glasses behind the bar.
Ed was sitting at the bar, nursing a massive mug of beer, when she walked in, immediately catching his eye. Was it her impressive, almost-eight-foot height? The soft emerald shade of her supple scales? The incredibly long, shapely legs that carried her through the room on tall, crimson stiletto heels? The long,flexible tail that swayed behind her? The way her slender, yet feminine hips rolled with each graceful, purposeful stride, like she was walking the runway at a fashion show? The slinky crimson dress she wore that molded itself to her supermodel figure, hugging her incredibly tight waist and slender chest? The graceful lines of her long neck, decorated with a gold and ruby choker? Her face, nearly human, if not for the supple emerald scales, flawless, beautiful, and eminently high-class, accentuated perfectly with smoky eyeshadow and forest-green lipstick? Her striking lack of hair that did nothing to detract from her beauty? The way her emerald, slitted eyes roamed over the room with casual hunger? Was it the cool confidence she exuded as she took a seat at the bar and gestured the bartender over with a long, manicured, crimson fingernail? Her voice, deliciously exotic, with an unplaceable latin accent and just the barest hint of a hiss as she ordered herself a martini? Or was it everything about her, all at once?
After a moment of staring, Ed’s grip on his flagon tightened, and he lifted it to his lips, knocking back a pint of beer in a few gulps. He was just drunk enough to try it. He turned, pushing himself off the stool to his feet, standing a full six feet tall, covered head to toe in tough beige scales. But while he wasn’t the tallest, he was certainly the broadest, with wide, square shoulders, even broader than the bronto bouncer’s, if you counted the spikes. Two six-inch spikes of bone thrust up diagonally from each shoulder, making shirts impractical at best, so he simply went shirtless, baring his rippling, muscular chest and abs for all to see. His back was plated with dark brown bony armor, each plate bearing a short ridge swept back to a blunt, hook-like point. His head was more bestial than most, squat and armored, with six short horns thrusting back from the top and sides, starting just behind his deep brown eyes. His arms were thick, powerful and muscular, with biceps like volleyballs and bracer-like patches of armor on the backs of his corded forearms. His short, thick, blunt tail made normal pants impractical, as well, leaving him with few clothing options. His heavy black leather kilt, the weighty pleats, studded with patterns of gleaming steel studs, shifting as he began to walk.
Ed strode down the bar, liquid courage driving him on, each step heavy and purposeful, until he came up beside the newcomer. He leaned on the bar, resting his elbow on the gleaming black glass as he looked up at the serpentine beauty. “Buy you a drink?” he asked, his deep voice rumbling out of his chest.
Her slitted emerald eyes turned on him, fixing him with a cool, calculating look, appraising the stranger with the guts to approach her so quickly. A smirk curled the corner of her deep green lips. “That dependss.” She replied, treating him to the full experience of her soft, sultry voice. “I’m not ssure if I’ll be here long enough for ssecond.” she adds, leaning toward him, slightly. “Of coursse, you’re welcome to have a sseat…” she offered, bringing her martini to her lips and taking a long, slow drink, her eyes locked on his.
Ed arced an armored eyebrow at that, but wasn’t about to turn down the invitation, climbing onto the stool beside her, still facing her, still leaning one elbow on the bar. “Not planning to stick around? Seems a shame, this place could use the class.” He commented. The barkeep huffed quietly with annoyance at the comment, but didn’t interrupt.
The woman’s lips curled into a proper smile. “Exsselent. The complimentss have already begun. By all meanss, keep them coming.” She commented, playfully, turning to face him more directly, pointedly crossing her incredibly long, shapely legs.
Ed grinned. “Whatever you say.” he replied. “Have I mentioned you’re beautiful yet?”
The woman laughed softly, shaking her head. “While I’m ssure my pressensse iss a welcome change for thiss plasse, but I’m not looking to wasste time.” she replied more directly, taking another drink of her martini and locking her eyes on his once more. “I’m here for a reasson.” she finished.
“And what might that be?” Ed inquired, coolly.
The woman didn’t respond immediately, setting her drink down and letting her free hand drift over to Ed’s knee, a long, manicured nail dragging teasingly over the rough scales. “My name iss Tita. What can I call you?” she inquired, calmly.
Ed blinked at the unexpected contact, but managed to keep his cool. “Ed.” He replied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tita.”
Tita smirked playfully. “You ssee, Ed, I’m not your average woman.” She explained. “I’m sstrong. In more ways than one, and too sstrong in ssome.” She elaborated, fingernail still dragging over his scaly knee. “I know what I want, and I’m not afraid to do what I have to to get it. I don’t like danssing around the topic. Ssome find that… intimidating.” She continued. Her finger stopped, the nail pressing more firmly against the seam in his scales. “Physsically, too... I often have to be careful not to hurt ssomeone.” she explained, the nail pushing harder and harder by the second. “I can’t relaxss if I have to be worried about hurting ssomeone. I can never really… let loosse. Unwind. It can be quite… Frusstrating...” she finished, her eyes narrowed with annoyance, her finger trembling as she pushed the nail into his flesh with all the strength she could deliver without breaking it.
Ed kept his eyes on hers, armored eyelids narrowing slightly, but never flinching away as she tried to dig her nail into his knee. “You can’t really be with people, because you’re too much for them to handle.” He began, his tone serious. “You can keep them at a distance, and that’s alright on the surface but deep down, it’s not enough. You try to convince yourself to be satisfied with what you can get, but you always want more. When you try to get closer, you hurt people, and sooner or later, you stop letting people close. You try to be satisfied by yourself, but it’s not the same.”
Tita’s face sinks, her hand going limp, hanging off his knee. For a moment, the mask slips, and one can see the dull, aching loneliness behind her eyes. Then she shakes her head, straightening back up, and the mask of cool confidence is back. “Well… It sseemss I’ve sstumbled on a kindred sspirit.” she replies, raising her glass to her lips once more, draining it in a single gulp, leaving the olive. Her palm comes to rest on his knee as she locked eyes with him once more. “Ssince you know sso much, then you know why I’m here, don’t you? I’m looking for ssomeone sstrong enough to take me. Ssomeone I don’t have to worry about hurting. Someone I can truly relax with.” she explained, taking the little plastic sword impaling her olive between thumb and forefinger and lifting it to her lips. A long, forked tongue slithers out from between her dark green lips, coiling around the gin-soaked fruit illustratively before pulling it into her mouth. Her eyes stay locked with his all throughout, and she swallows, a visible lump sliding down her throat as her lips curl into a teasing smile once more. “Sso… Interessted?”
Ed swallows at the display, then rises to his feet. “Looks like you won’t need that second drink.” He replied, holding out a rough-scaled hand. Tita’s slender digits disappear into the massive mitt as it closes around them, and with a soft tug, he pulls her to her feet. Hurriedly paying their bills, the mismatched pair disappear out the door and into the night, leaving The Tar Pit that much emptier.
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