A Day in the Life of an Argonian Writer

(just a silly thing I wrote. All images shamelessly stolen from Kazerad except one from Furnut, credited.)

7:00am – Wake up. This is not a trivial endeavor. Depending on prior evening’s alcoholic consumption, this task alone may require up to an hour to complete successfully. Yet it is a necessary and vital task, so do not skimp. Continuing on to other steps without proper completion of this will result in less-than-optimal experiences. Toothpicks on the eyelids are not a substitute.

8:00am – Get up. Note that this is a separate task than that mentioned previously. More than likely you will find yourself in an embarrassing and muscle-aching position after hours of comatose inactivity. Stretch your muscles, crack any joints that need cracking and scratch your ass. Slither your way into the bathroom. Remember, your ancestors were reptilian. There is no need to feel embarrassed. Perambulation on only two limbs is overrated. You were given four and a tail by Nature. It is no disparagement to use them all in this time of crisis. Upon arrival in your bathroom, complete all natural and necessary functions. Then get yourself into a bath at the earliest possible opportunity. You stink. Also, recall that oral hygiene is of high importance. Brush your teeth. It is also suggested to brush your tongue. Given the size of that particular body part on you, it is perfectly acceptable to use a scrub brush rather than a tooth brush.

9:00am – You are now refreshed and ready to take on the day. However, keep in mind that you are also now naked. You may have been so before, but at that time modesty was of little importance. Now would be a good time to quietly peer about your bedroom to verify it is free of other occupants. Should you encounter any unexpected sentient beings in your room, wrapping a towel around yourself is suggested. If this does prove necessary, keep in mind that your tail will prevent proper and complete coverage. Keep that tail down. Then oust the offending interloper from your room in whatever way seems fit and find clothes. Do not wear the same clothes you wore the previous day. The reasons for this rule are many and need not be discussed here. Hopefully you can find an acceptably clean outfit.

9:30am – Breakfast time! Once again, verify your solitude first. Open a window and feel the fresh breezes of Anvil. The scents from the nearby ocean should remind you of just how close you are to the sea. Now close the window and regret the inhalation of the stench of rotting fish. But do NOT succumb to your instinct and seek to break your fast with more alcoholic beverages. Remember, fruit and nuts are available and cheap. You may even find some dairy and sweet bread. Pork products are the traditional meat breakfast for the Urban Argonian. Do try not to rip and shred your breakfast with your sharp pointy teeth. Try to chew it like the cud-eating flat-toothers do. When you have sufficiently frustrated yourself, go ahead and tear in.

10:00am – Clean up the mess you made. Now it is time to get to work. For one last time, double check your solitude, ready your work space, double check the lock on your door and the shutters on your window. If privacy is assured you may now dress for work properly. It is not necessary to remove ALL clothing. Remember, your goal here is to remove all possible distractions, not to awaken new ones. Make yourself comfortable. Now, review all notes and your previous day’s work, if any.

11:00am – Continue staring at blank piece of paper.

12:00am – LUNCH TIME! Dress yourself properly again (do not forget this step) and head out to whatever comestibles establishment you desire. Do NOT go to the bar again. Save that for later. You’ll need it. If you decide to eat at the establishment, try to conform as well as possible to the norms of human society as befits a well-traveled Argonian. Be courteous and polite. However, do not attempt to smile at other humans. The expression tends to frighten them as they know you are hungry at this time of day. Should you encounter any acquaintances, do not let them know you have seen them and try to escape. If not possible, go ahead and dine with them. They are your fellow citizens after all. Do NOT offer to pick up the tab, especially before food is ordered however. Experience shows that making such a heinous mistake inevitably leads to the ordering of multiple Filet Mignons. Decline the offers of another drink after the meal is done. You have work to do!

1:00pm – Return home. Re-lock the doors, recheck for stray Khajiits, and resume your standard working attire. By this time, the blank page may have become annoying. Failing renewed inspiration, try starting by writing this:

“It was a dark and stormy night.”

Cliche, sure, but it’s better than staring at a blank page. Search your imagination. Surely you can come up with SOMETHING to write about! If the clock continues to click and the last word you wrote continues to be “night”, you can now consider removing the rest of your apparel. SOME distraction may, in fact, be necessary.

(IMAGE BY FURNUT: https://inkbunny.net/furnut5158 )

2:00pm – Stare in horror at the pornography you have just written. Scan the smut for anything even remotely imaginative, then destroy all evidence. If fire codes allow, ignite the paper in a fire-proof area and watch it burn. If not, ingestion is a viable alternative. Resume your working position and for god’s sake put your clothes back on! Look at clock. It should now be at least 2:30pm and you have done absolutely nothing of worth. You need inspiration. Go find something to inspire you. Do not refer to the magazine you keep under your mattress. That is not the kind of inspiration you need now. If all else fails, go for a walk.

3:00pm – As you amble about the beautiful city of Anvil, take in the sights around you. Eavesdrop on some citizen’s conversation, for inspiration OR for later blackmail fodder. All information is valuable. Stop wondering if small animals can breathe underwater. They cannot and societal norms will be transgressed if you endeavor to find out. Should you encounter a fellow Argonian in your rambling, be sure and switch to Jel before making snide and hurtful comments about the humans. Avoid any Khajiit’s you may come across. One is quite enough.

4:00pm – Back to work again. Follow aforementioned procedures to secure your privacy and resume your place at your work space. If you are STILL lacking inspiration, write about what you saw in your walk. No need to be too creative here, just describe what you saw so that you are writing something. Describe the crumbling building you avoided, or perhaps the stinky Nord that you walked too close to. What was he wearing? What kind of weapon did he have? What were the stains in his beard from? Surely there’s something you can write about. Keep in mind that ALL writing is helpful to your craft, even that thing you burnt in the sink earlier.

5:00pm – You made it! QUITTING TIME! You may now put away your writing materials. Spare a few minutes to celebrate (if you actually wrote anything of value) or to sulk (if not). Both can be accomplished by laying on your couch with a book covering your eyes. Make sure it’s a worthy book though. Osmosis has not been conclusively proven to NOT happen this way. Banging on the book’s cover to try and force some of it’s author’s brilliance into your head may be helpful. Remember that in nearly all medical research, some benefits are always attributable to the placebo effect.

6:00pm – Stop moping (or, on rare occasions, celebrating). Time to write to Casta. If you have followed these instructions properly, you will NOT be drunk and you will NOT write her a drunken emotional-wreck letter this time. Being both your mentor and your only significant other, it is important to maintain a loving relationship with her. It is fine to tell her how beautiful her eyes are. It is not appropriate to go into detail about other body parts, as you have been known to do when inebriated. If you have not followed these instructions, do not attempt to write to her. If you do write a letter in that state in spite of these well-intentioned instructions, be sure at least to post it via flame-and-smoke mail into the sink. Of course, the fact that it’s the best writing you’ve done all day may be yet another reason for your 8:00pm visit to the tavern.

7:00pm – Read a book. It is important for all writers to read as well. If you feel inspired, write a critique of what you read. Try not to simply make a list of all grammatical and spelling errors, but also note both the good and bad aspects of the work you read. Find some. What did the author do that could be worth imitation or that you should be sure to steer clear of? If a work of fiction, pay attention to how he introduced new characters or situations. Did he come up with a name that fit? How did he deal with transitions and relationships? Be sure and keep tissues handy, even if it’s not a tearjerker. When you realize how much better the writer is than you, you will need it.

8:00pm – Now it’s officially booze-o-clock. Time to visit your second home. Try to strike up a conversation with others, if they don’t know you already. For those who do, see if they might let you talk with them again anyway. Remember, it’s always better to engage with absolutely anyone but the bartender. He knows you too well already. Also he has the power to cut you off. It’s usually best to talk with non-attractive people too. They don’t have anything better to do. Remember, you need to listen as well as talk. Yes, you’ll have to listen to their sob story about some husband or daughter or son being mauled by a bear or something. But if you want them to listen to you go on at length about the woes of being a writer, you have to put up with some of their whining.

9:00pm – Probably time to switch to another target by now. Also, order some food. Once again, you are surrounded by herbivore flat-teeth types. Try and keep your awesomely sharp teeth from frightening them too much. It might be best to sit at the bar for your dining. Be careful not to use your Gaydar at the bar. The bartender knows that trick.

10:00pm – Verify that at least the most essential clothing is still attached. The bartender will likely be making noises about having had ‘enough’. (As if he has a clue how much is ‘enough’ for an Argonian!) If circumstances allow, you may now begin to sing your favorite three-decades-old renditions of Black Marsh anthems. Ask others to join in for the chorus. Disregard any protests as clear evidence of the crowd’s interest and heighten your volume.

11:00pm – Look up at the stars circling overhead and marvel at their beauty. Disregard the pain in your rump where the bartender kicked you. Life is a pain in the rump, so roll with it. But do not try to roll home. Experience shows that it just gets you dizzy and makes people laugh at you. Besides, it’s difficult to tell what direction you are heading when rolling down the street singing Black Marsh anthems. Clockwise and Counter-Clockwise are not directions. If someone offers to help you home, be appreciative and try not to vomit on them.

12:00am – Verify surroundings are indeed, YOUR home. Also verify no new Khajiits have wandered in. If any Khajiit is found in your bedroom, do not inquire further. Leave the house and return in the morning, even if it means sleeping on the ground beside your house.

-UPDATE: Do NOT sleep underneath your bedroom window in these circumstances!

If house is Khajiit-free, slither up the stairs. Your creator gave you all those extra appendages for a reason. USE them. Use the bathroom before retiring to your bed also. It’s there for a reason. You may now safely remove clothing for your bedtime. Do one final check that no one is in it first before getting in.

1:00am – If you are still awake, cry yourself to sleep and remember that you can do better tomorrow. You may take this time to compose pitiable laments to your lover. No matter how heartfelt and significant they may seem to you at this time, there is no harm in them, and no need to burn them either. Do not worry, they will be completely illegible in the morning and thus can be safely ignored. In the morning, if you are running low on toilet paper, these make an excellent substitute.

(Repeat as needed)

Dodger: Continuation (11)

“So where do you live?” Dodger asked Donny once they got back in the city.

“Oh, come on. I’ll show you!” Donny said and they went clockwise northward from the gate till they came to an otherwise unremarkable building.

“We live on the third floor. There’s stairs just inside.”

Dodger looked around, sure that she recognized the area. “Wow! This is just a block from where I’m staying. You know Luther Broad’s place?”

Donny nodded, “Sure! It’s right down there around the corner. How long are you in town for?”

Oh, probably about a week I guess. Kinda hard to know for sure.“

Kitty’s stomach growled and she looked up apologetically. “Sorry,” she said.

“Hey, why don’t we go to Luther’s?” Dodger suggested, an inspiration striking her. “I won’t have to pay there, or at least not much. We’ve got a tab. And then we can buy Kitty some food for the rest of the week.”

“Dodger, you don’t have to do that. I’ve already eaten more than I usually do in days.”

“Tell that to your stomach. Besides, I saw you when you were wet. You could use some more meat on those bones,” Dodger replied.

“Not really, that’s pretty much how all Khajiits look when they’re wet,” Kitty explained. “We’re not as big as we look usually. At least, not my kind of Khajiit.”

“Well I’m going to anyway. Let’s go,” Dodger declared, deciding for the others, but they followed along gratefully.

Dodger stopped by the room, but it was still locked and no one answered the door so she figured Yellow-Eyes must still be out. Instead they went back to the common room where Luther got them a table in the back away from all the other patrons.

“Sorry guys, no menu here. You get what Luther brings you.”

“You know what they say, beggars can’t be choosers.” Kitty said with a little smile while they waited for Luther to come back with their food.

“This place is nice,” Donny said while looking around. “Not all prissy like the King and Queen and not as crappy as the Bloated Float. So, where do you live Kitty?”

“Pretty much anywhere I can stay without someone noticing me. Right now me and another couple of guys are staying at an empty house out by the lighthouse. But I just go there to sleep really. Mostly I hang around the city.”

While the stew Luther came back with was certainly no high cuisine, it was filling and he didn’t ask for any money even for the other two. After they’d finished, Donny came back from the restroom with an odd look on his face.

“What is it Donny? Are you alright?”

“Fine!” he snickered. “Let’s get out of here though.”

Kitty looked at Dodger who looked back at her with a shrug, and they left the inn.

“Ever been on top of the wall? I know a way up there. It’s a great view!”

“Donny,” Dodger said with a frown, “we just got out of prison. I don’t think they’d want us up there.”

“No, really, I know a place the guards don’t go. Come on!” Donny insisted, and led them back the way they’d come. But as they entered the next district, Kitty protested.

“Can we go around this area. There’s some people here I don’t like.”

Donny thought for a minute. “Sure. We’ll go towards the tower, then come back out on the other side.”

Kitty explained without prompting. “Just some girls I got into a fight with a while ago. But they’re pretty mean.”

Donny nodded. “I think I know who they are. Real bitches, but one of their dads is some high up guy in the Council, so they get away with anything. You’re right to stay clear of them.”

“Did they do that to you?” Dodger asked, indicating her ear.

Kitty nodded. “They called it ‘notching’. Said all animals need to be tagged. It hurt. A lot.”

“You’re lucky it didn’t get infected, Kitty!” Dodger said, examining the scar under her eye closer. “Donny, isn’t there anybody that could do something about them?”

Donny shook his head. “Not them. Sometimes it’s better to just avoid trouble. Sorry you had to run into them though Kitty.”

“Me too,” Kitty agreed.

Eventually they came to a section of the wall where a tall tree grew next to it. Though it was dangerous, Donny showed them how to crawl out on a big branch, then drop down onto the walkway of the wall when the guards were gone.

“Now, check THIS out!” Donny said, and hopped atop one of the openings in the crenelated wall and stepped out onto a little platform on the other side.

“Whoa,” Kitty and Dodger said together.

The platform apparently had been built for a statue that was long gone, but it made for a beautiful view of the landscape outside the city. The sun was just low enough now that the clouds were lit from below while the rolling hills and woods nearby gave way to mountains in the distance that were red with the color of the setting sun. The first stars were just beginning to show and they all sat with their backs to the wall, taking in the spectacle before them.

Dodger felt something cold and hard against her elbow. When she looked, Donny was grinning from ear to ear, a square-ish glass bottle in his hand that he was tapping her with to get her attention.

“Donny! What’s that?”

“Some hooch! Nabbed it from behind the bar at Luther’s!”

“Hooch?”

“Hell, I don’t know what it is. I just grabbed it. Want some?”

“Gimme that,” Kitty laughed and snatched the bottle from Donny’s hand. She opened the top, sniffed it a second, then took a long pull.

Her eyes bulged for a second as she handed it to Dodger.

“Wow,” she said between coughs. “That’s strong stuff!”

“Oh, you’re just a lightweight,” Dodger bragged, “We Argonians can take twice what Humans and Khajiits can take!”

When finally she stopped sputtering after her drink and handed the bottle to Donny, she concluded, “…or so they say.”

Donny took a drink every bit as much as the other two, and handed it back with no obvious reaction.

“What can I say? I have a lot of practice. It’s Whiskey. By the taste, it must be some good shit too.”

“Whiskey,” Dodger said, forming her tongue around the unfamiliar word. “What’s that made out of?”

“Wheat, rye, barley… who knows? I just know what it tastes like. And this is some primo stuff.”

Kitty crawled out on her belly to look over the ledge. “Damn it’s a long way down. You know, if we get drunk up here, someone’s going to fall and kill themselves probably.”

Dodger took up position beside her. “Wow. It is a long way. How about we just barf over the edge when we get too drunk instead?”

Donny was last and literally crawled on top of the other two, forcing them to slide to the sides a little to make room. He conjured up a rather impressive ball of spit and let it drop. A breeze grabbed it as they watched it fall, hitting a bush below.

“Oh no. See that man and woman walking this way?” Dodger pointed out.

“Those two?” Kitty asked, pointing at a couple that were walking on the path below, towards underneath them.

“Lovers for sure,” Donny speculated.

“Think I can hit them?” Dodger asked with a mischievous grin stealing over her face.

“Never!” said Kitty.

“No way,” said Donny.

The two were strolling slowly along below while Dodger estimated the distance, trajectory and wind speed before producing her own spitball, taking one last look, and letting fly in a strong outward trajectory. Then all three watched the speeding wad of lizard spit shrink with distance. It hit the lady square on her head and the three instantly retreated out of sight to the safety of the wall, snorting mirth in their every aspect.

“oh my god!” Kitty squeaked out in a whisper.

“what are they doing?” Dodger giggled to Donny.

“I’m not going to look!” he whispered back.

The sun set as the three continued to drink like drunken gargoyles against the darkening sky as the stars came out.

“I need to piss,” Donny confessed.

The other two looked at the edge of the platform.

“No, I’m not going to piss over the edge!” Donny laughed. “Let’s get down.”

Though it was a challenge, all three made it back to the walkway atop the wall without falling.

“So… how do we get back up to that branch?” Dodger said, looking up the way they’d come.

“We don’t. We’re escorted down by the Imperial City’s finest.”

As if on cue, a voice shouted “HALT!”

Donny stepped towards the voice.

“Oh, it’s just you. Come on, time to get down,” said a female guard’s voice as she came into view.

“I brought some friends to enjoy the view,” he said without slurring his words at all. Dodger was impressed.

“Well bring them along too. And stop doing this. You could get in real trouble. I saw your dad looking for you earlier Donny. You’d better get home.”

“Was he drunk?” Donny asked

“I don’t think so.”

The three climbed down through the guard station, which was thankfully empty, with Donny’s guard-friend ushering them along.

“I guess I’d better get going,” Donny said with a sigh.

Dodger looked at the night sky above. “Yeah. Me too.”

“I’ll go with you, if you don’t mind,” Kitty offered. “I’m not heading back for a while anyway.”

They ended up walking hand in hand with Kitty in the middle till they were standing in front of Donny’s building.

“Thanks guys,” Donny said, “I don’t suppose you’d like to get together again tomorrow?”

“Sure!” Kitty said enthusiastically. “I got nothing better to do.”

Dodger shook her head. “I think I’m going to be busy. Sorry.”

“Well, we’ll miss you. But drop by sometime if you can Dodger,” Donny said before giving them both a hug and heading inside.

Kitty and Dodger walked the block-and-a-half back to Luther’s hand in hand.

“Kitty,” Dodger said, digging into her pants where she kept her coins. “Here, have this.”

The coins sparkled in the eyes of the vagrant cat as much as in her paws. “Dodger… I don’t know what to say. Thanks!”

“No problem, Kitty. I don’t need it as much as you do. Spend it wisely.”

Kitty’s face turned dark. “You know, if I wasn’t a bum, I’d refuse it. That’s what they do in the books I read.”

Dodger took Kitty’s shoulders in both hands. “But you are a bum. For now. But only for now. Only people who WANT to be bums stay that way.”

Dodger hugged Kitty fiercely. “Take care of yourself Kitty. I don’t know if I’ll be around much more, but if I don’t see you again, say goodbye to Donny for me, okay?”

“I will. He’s fun, isn’t he?”

“You’re both fun. Goodnight Kitty.”

“Goodnight Dodger,” Kitty said as Dodger turned to step into the inn.

“Dodger?” Kitty said and Dodger turned back to her.

“Mmm?”

“Today’s been really special to me,” Kitty said stepping up to the Argonian.

“Me too, Kitty. Very special,” Dodger said, taking Kitty’s paws. They felt warm and soft and furry.

“I won’t forget you, Dodger,” Kitty said and kissed Dodger’s cheek, tickling her with her whiskers. Dodger’s hand went to the spot reflexively, but when she looked back, the cat was walking away quickly, her tail twitching in embarassment.

“What a sad cat,” Dodger said to herself, then turned back to go inside.

Once inside, she found Yellow-Eyes waiting for her, but once he’d let her in, she went straight to the window and looked out at an angle to see if she could see the street out front. But she couldn’t.

Dodger: Continuation (4)

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK KNOCK

She waited a moment, then put the key in the lock and opened the door. Yellow-Eyes was still on the bed but awake as she set the plates down and locked the door behind her.

“Everything okay?” he asked taking a plate.

“Yeah. A couple of guys tried to pick my pocket, but no problem. I didn’t have any money there anyway, thanks to you. Apparently there’s a Thieves Guild in this town!”

“Of course. Not uncommon in a city of this size.”

“They called you ‘Kem’.”

Yellow-Eyes didn’t even pause. Between mouthfuls, he grunted, “Yeah. They call me that here.”

“Which is your real name then?”

“Neither. Can you get me some water from the table?”

Dodger crossed to the table, filled a mug from a pitcher there, and brought it back.

“Well, what’s the plan? Are we going to see your friend?”

“No. She’ll come here.”

“She?”

Yellow-Eyes looked up. “Yes. She.”

“But you said…”

“That was before I knew you were coming along. Besides, it’s always best to hold some details back, or confuse them.”

Another note for her notebook, Dodger thought. “When?”

He resumed eating. “Don’t know. Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow.”

“So, we’re just going to stay here?”

“I am. You do whatever you want. Go see the city. Just watch yourself.”

Dodger sat on the floor cross-legged and dug into her dinner in earnest. Once she started eating, it was all she could do to keep from wolfing it all down at once. It was as if her body was reminded how long it had been since she’d last eaten – and how little it had been even then. It wasn’t till her plate had been picked clean that she looked up. Yellow-Eyes was watching her.

“You okay?” he asked.

Dodger wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “Fine. Sorry. I was pretty hungry I guess.”

“I guess!”

“Well, I think I’ll take a look around anyway. You’re really just going to stay here?”

Yellow-Eyes nodded.

“Okay. I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Two knocks, then two,” he said as she was walking out, though this time she looked both ways down the hallway before she turned back.

“Wait, we’re going to change the knocks every time? Why?”

“Someone might have heard you last time.”

“You’re paranoid. You know that, right?”

“Two knocks, then two more. I’ll keep the key and lock up behind you.” he said.

She tossed the key back to him, but he let it hit the floor without making any effort to catch it.

“Lazy too,” she said.

“Dodger. If you get in trouble, I won’t be looking for you. You need to know that. You’re on your own here. Be careful.”

“Alright DAD.”

“That’s the point. I’m not your dad. I’m an architect. I wish you well, Dodger, but I’m not even you’re guardian here. You don’t have a guardian.”

“Okay, okay. Got it. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

The hallway was still clear when she closed the door and by the time she got to the stairs at the end of it, she heard the latch turn. She went back down the stairs. In the public room, the place was getting busier. She took the plates to the end of the bar. Mr. Broad was talking to someone at the other end of the bar, but he noticed her and nodded so she set the plates down and walked out.

The stars were just coming out as she stepped into the cooling air. The streets, though far from deserted, were certainly less bustling than they had been earlier. Yellow-Eyes, a.k.a. Kem, a.k.a. who knows what had given her a fair idea of the city layout with the tower in the center. It did make it easier to navigate though.

But mostly she just watched the people. Such a variety of people. And not just the variation in races she had read about, but the sizes, ages, clothing styles. It was like the vines back in the Marsh – no two were exactly the same.

“No wonder humans think we all look the same. In comparison with them, I guess we do!” she thought. “Not many kids though. I wonder if they keep them indoors?”

She found herself back in the area with the graves. When she came near the one Yellow-Eyes had placed a rock on, she noticed it was gone. At least, if it was the same headstone. They were all so similar she might be wrong, but she didn’t see any rocks on the other nearby headstones either and she was fairly sure she was at the right place.

“Must be some sort of signal,” she thought. “He puts a rock up there and his friend notices, and comes to that inn as a pre-arranged meeting place. Gotta write that down.”

She sat and scribbled some notes about the two men and what they’d told her of the Guild as well as what she’d learned from Yellow-Eyes. The locking of the door and the code knocking she could use too. Even the nasty restroom could be handy. This trip was turning out to be a bounty of ideas!

When she’d finished her notes, she just sat back and watched the people go by. There were certainly Argonians as well as Orsimer occasionally, but they were still a minority compared to the humans with their swirly ears and their patchy hair. She began to notice patterns though. While there were exceptions, the males tended to keep their hair cropped short, while the females’ hair was usually longer and more elaborately kept. Also, the older the males were, the less hair they tended to have if they weren’t completely hairless.

Yet facial hair ran the opposite way. In fact, she finally decided that the females didn’t have facial hair at all! She saw not a single case in which a female sported any below the nose or under the mouth. That must go beyond style and be an actual physical trait.

She also noticed that the females tended to dress to emphasize their breasts, while the males wore loose fitting trousers as a way of de-emphasizing their own sex. She thought back to Yellow-Eyes and his comment about only needing a jacket. She saw no Argonians here without a full outfit though – minus the footwear. Humans may just see a crocodile in a jacket, but he really should have a full set of clothes. She decided to see if she could find him some pants.

Of course, she actually did have some coin. But she certainly didn’t keep it in her pockets like those cutpurse’s seemed to expect. Yellow-Eyes had seen to that long before they got to the city. The problem was going to be to find a clothing store with clothing for Argonians that would fit Yellow-Eyes. She stood up and began to wander around, now with an eye to finding such a store.

However, she began to realize that the storefronts were all closing down for the night. Only the taverns and brothels seemed to stay open much after dark here, so she gave up on that idea and came at last full-circle back to Luther’s. She climbed the stairs, having only elicited a couple of glances by the patrons and knocked the pattern. Within she heard the lock turn and the door opened. Yellow-Eyes was still alone.

“No friend?”

“Not yet.”

Dodger noticed the room had been rearranged somewhat in her absence. A new set of bedclothes had been arranged on the floor among other things. Yellow-Eyes sat atop those, leaving the bed empty for her. She sat down on it.

“You need clothes, Yellow-Eyes. No one walks around without pants here.”

“I’ll get some as soon as I can.”

“I was going to buy you some, but all the shops are closed after dark.”

Yellow-Eyes turned to look at her. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll make my own way.”

“I know. I wanted to,” Dodger said, laying down and turning to the wall.

“Well… thank’s Dodger,” she heard as she closed her eyes.

“No problem.”

She drifted off to sleep then, probably as happy as she could ever remember being. She was on an adventure for the first time in her life, and the next day would bring more adventures without a doubt.

Suddenly she was awoken by knocking. Three knocks, then one. She looked over at Yellow-Eyes, but he was already up, sword in hand and standing at the door. He signaled for her to be quiet, and she backed up away from the door with her feet pulled up.

Dodger: Continuation (3)

Author’s note: I’ve decided to continue my fanfiction on a different blog. bdfanfic.tumblr.com. I’ll reblog to here from there for a while, but eventually I’ll stop putting fanfictions there at all and reserve it for other oddities. So, if you want to follow my fanfic stuff, be sure to add bdfanfic.tumblr.com blog to your… whatever it is. Here’s part 3 of Dodger: Continuation.

They resumed their journey in the bustling street. Eventually they came to a district full of what appeared to be graves. Yellow-Eyes stepped off the path and grabbed a small stone, setting it gingerly onto an otherwise unremarkable headstone.

“What’s that for?” Dodger asked, not able to resist the question.

“Never you mind. Let’s go.”

They returned the way they’d come and passed through to an area where she read “Elven Garden” above the gateway. Dodger was nearly ready to ask Yellow-Eyes where she might stop to use a bathroom when instead he stepped up to a building with a sign overhead that read “Luther Broad’s Boarding House”. Within, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light. Yellow-eyes was already speaking with a man she could only assume was Luther Broad in quiet tones. The man nodded and handed him a key.

“Come Dodger. We have a place to stay for the night.”

“Where’s the restroom?” she asked, and Yellow-Eyes gestured to a door to their right.

Once inside, she wished she had done her business outdoors. The stench was powerful, and there were two men there pissing into the same hole while another was just finishing up. As disgusting as the place was, she had to admit that she’d discovered a new fact about human anatomy she’d not known before. Her books had been quite unclear as to certain details. Looking at the stinking hole, she was at least gratified to see the other two were finishing up, and they left her in peace while she did her best to complete the task as sanitarily as she could manage while not gagging.

She saw Yellow-Eyes waiting for her by the stairs as she tried to adopt a non-nonchalant attitude.

“Sure, I piss in stinking shitholes all the time with other humans around,” she thought to herself. “No big deal, right?”

But as they entered their room, she let loose.

“Oh my god! Yellow-Eyes, that place was awful! How do you stand it? I’m going outside next time!”

“You’ll get used to it,” he said, laying down on the bed.

Dodger crossed to the meager window and tried to look out. “I doubt that very much.”

“Dodger, don’t piss outside unless you go all the way out of the city. It’s a crime and you could get put in jail. This place is full of laws you mustn’t cross.”

Dodger scratched at the window, hoping to clean through the dirt. She finally managed to get a bit of a view, but her window just looked out onto the next building so she turned back to Yellow-Eyes.

“Only one bed?”

“Dodger, I’m penniless. My friend will help us out, but I don’t want to push it. You can have the bed, just let me take a quick nap. I know the owner though, and he knows I’m good for the rent. And he knows you’re with me. Why don’t you go down and get us some food?”

“Good idea!” she nodded, suddenly feeling the emptiness of her belly.

As she stepped to the door, Yellow-Eyes caught her attention and tossed her the key.

“Lock it.”

“Nice place you’ve brought me to,” she said, catching the key.

“I brought you nowhere, young one. You came here of your own free will.”

“Good point. Okay, I’ll be back shortly.”

“When you come back, knock three times, then once before you open the door,” the Argonian said, closing his eyes.

“Jeeze,” she thought as she stepped out into the hall. “Is he paranoid or what?”

Suddenly she had a thought and looked around the hall. No one there, but she should start checking. Maybe he wasn’t paranoid.

“So, you’re with Kem?” the man she figured was Luther asked as she sat at the bar. It was still afternoon and there weren’t many patrons around.

“Kem?”

“Well, that’s what he calls himself here anyway. Why, what do you call him?”

“Mostly Sir.”

“A good girl, you. Sure, I’ll get you some food. Want anything while you wait?”

“A drink would be nice. Maybe some ale?”

“Ale huh? How old are you kid?”

“Seventeen,” she admitted.

“Yeah. About what I figured. Have some Root Beer.”

Dodger took a sip as Luther walked into a back room. “Not bad, really,” she thought. Somehow she had figured it would taste like the bathroom smelled. But mostly the public room smelled of humans, smoke and stale beer. She saw a couple of men looking at her, but decided it would be best to ignore them as much as she could. That worked for a minute, but then she saw them approaching from the corner of her eye.

“What’s a scaly girl like you doing in a place like this?” one of them asked.

She was actually relieved to notice he didn’t slur his words. At least they weren’t drunk.

“I’m traveling with a friend. Name’s Dodger. What’s your name?” she asked, standing up from the stool and holding out her hand in greeting.

“Oh! You speak the language well. Glad to meet you Dodger. I’m Falric and this is my brother Elric.”

Dodger was pleased to see her insight was right. Give a stranger your name and they’re not a stranger anymore. And hopefully they’ll be kind. She shook Elric’s hand.

“Are you travelers too?”

“Traveler? Oh no. We live here in the city,” Falric replied, resting his hand on her shoulder.

Suddenly she felt uncomfortable. Customs vary widely, but what she had learned of human custom indicated that physical touch is not normal among strangers. This man was getting a little too personal. She decided the direct approach might be best. She took his hand and pulled it away from her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Falric. I’m still not familiar with human customs well, but where I’m from we don’t touch like that. Really, I apologize. It’s just not comfortable for me.”

The man’s reaction was a relief.

“Oh. I see. Well I meant no offense. So where are you headed?” he continued.

She felt a rustle behind her and spun around to face Elric, catching his hand deftly.

“I don’t have any money. Sorry Elric,” she said, baring her teeth in what could have been a sweet smile, or could have been something more.

“Oh. Um… sorry Dodger. My brother… sticky fingers you know.” Falric said.

Dodger released the Elric’s hand, making sure he scraped his wrist on her talons first.

“Oh, I know all right.”

“Listen, Dodger. You seem like a girl with her head on straight. If you ever need a job…”

“If I need a job pick-pocketing travelers, I’ll look out for you two. Or I’ll just freelance.”

“Oh, you don’t want to do that, Missy,” Elric said, rubbing his wrist. “There’s a Guild you know. You’ll lose your hand or worse if you don’t join the Guild.”

“A Guild huh? Tell me about it Elric,” she said, putting her arm around his back and lead the two brothers back to a table nearby. “I’m very interested…”

A few minutes later the bartender returned with two covered plates. He stepped up to the table where the three were talking.

“Hey, what’s this? Dodger, you don’t want to hang around with these two!”

“Oh, it’s fine Mr. Broad. My friends here were just telling me all about a Guild I might be interested in joining.”

The owner’s eyes opened wide. “Oh? You?”

“You never know.”

“Best ask your friend Kem about that,” Mr. Broad warned, setting the plates down.

At that, the other two men’s eyes followed the same path. “Kem? Is he here? You’re with Kem?” Falric said, suddenly pulling back away from her.

“I… suppose so. Yeah. I’m with Kem. Why?”

The two stood up with alarm. “Listen, tell Kem we didn’t mean anything by it. We were just… well, you know. Business!”

“Yeah, business!” said Elric as they walked as quickly as reasonably possible to the door. "Gotta go now. Nice to meet you Dodger!“

"Nice to meet…” Dodger was saying as the door closed behind them. “…you too.”

Dodger: Continuation (2)

bdprequel:

“One question,” Dodger said after they’d risen in the morning and resumed their trek to the Imperial City. “Why did you need my knife when you had that sword last night anyway?”

“Can’t throw a sword,” came the terse reply.

Dodger nodded to herself and they walked on in silence.

As they got nearer the city, the road became wider and Dodger began to see other people on the road. First came a farmer, driving a wagon loaded with just what she expected – corn and lots of it. She waved and called a greeting to the old man as he rumbled past, but he didn’t even slow down and Yellow-Eyes took her hand and led her off the road before he got too close.

“Are they all so friendly in the city?” she asked sarcastically.

Yellow-Eyes looked at her before replying, “Be grateful he didn’t run off the road to hit you. They don’t intend any disrespect, Dodger. Most of them don’t even see us as people. We might as well be the grass or the trees. You wouldn’t expect him to talk to a passing tree.”

“But, they’re not all like that. Right?”

“No. There are exceptions. It’s like those slavers yesterday. I think they really believe the bullshit they spouted. They had to muzzle me so they could imagine I couldn’t talk. Otherwise I’d shake their world view and they might even feel guilty about binding us all up as slaves.”

“But they had respect for that Briarbird guy.”

“They did indeed. On some level, I think humans see the elves as superior to themselves. High elves at least. It’s a sure bet the High Elves do.”

“He decimated them didn’t he?” Dodger laughed, kicking a rock down the road.

Yellow-Eyes didn’t respond.

“Well, technically he didn’t. Decimated would mean he killed a tenth of them. He killed ten-tenths of them. He deci-decimated them.”

Yellow-Eyes kept walking.

“You probably didn’t know that,” Dodger muttered.

Still nothing.

“It was supposed to be funny,” Dodger said to the ground as they topped a hill.

But when she looked up, she saw the city. “Oh… my… god!”

Yellow-Eyes took her hand to help keep her out of trouble as they approached the city, steering her this way and that to avoid the increasing traffic while her eyes were glued upward to the walls as much as the awesome spectacle of the White-Gold Tower that loomed larger than any tree she had ever seen, ever even imagined. In her experience, only mountains could rival it’s size. But this had been built by… someone anyway!

“Human’s can’t be all bad! Look at what they built!”

Yellow-Eyes didn’t even turn to look at her. “Bullshit. This was built by the Aldmer. Humans just took it over.”

“Oh. Well, anyway it’s so… BIG! Surely you must be impressed. Briarbird said you were an architect.”

They passed within the gates without incident.

Once inside, and away from the guards Dodger noticed, he said, “Not that kind of architect.”

Dodger pulled at his hand and he stepped aside out of the road.

“What do you mean, not that kind of architect? How many kinds are there?”

Yellow-Eyes looked around, then led them to a more secluded area, where he knelt before her.

“Dodger, I know you’re young…”

“Seventeen,” she reminded him.

“Seventeen. But do you really think the Imperials would send someone like Briarbird to find me if I was just a designer of buildings?”

“Well, I didn’t really think…”

“You need to start thinking, Dodger. This is no place for a dope who can’t put two-and-two together. Do you think my friend went through all that expense to find me just to have me draw up plans for some outhouse? An emergency office tower?”

Dodger began to pout. “You think I’m stupid.”

“No, Dodger. I don’t. I think you’re unusually smart in fact. But you need to use that brain. Especially here. I’m not kidding when I tell you ‘I’m not your nanny’. You’re going to have to take care of yourself, and that means keeping your eyes open and that brain of yours engaged. Now, you said you were a writer, so you know words. Let’s see if you can puzzle out just what kind of an architect I am.”

Dodger brightened when he said she was smart. So she thought about it.

“Well… no offense, but you look kinda rough. Those scars didn’t get there designing buildings I guess.”

“No, they didn’t.”

“And they said they found you with your tail caught in a printing press in a warehouse. That’s an odd situation for a building architect.”

“That was an odd situation for me. Maybe I’ll tell you about it sometime. But the word… architect. What does it imply, other than buildings. What does an architect do?”

“He… um,” Dodger thought furiously. Yellow-Eyes was being unusually talkative. He wanted something from her. She needed to work this out. “He… makes plans.”

“Good. Yes. I make plans. But not plans for buildings. What kind of plans would someone want that are valuable enough to send an Imperial agent out for? An obviously highly qualified Imperial agent at that.”

“Something big. But not big like a building. Someone… wants you to make plans… for something big…”

Suddenly Dodger’s eyes grew very wide and she looked at the Argonian with newfound respect and something like awe.

“Something CRIMINAL!”

Yellow-Eyes nodded, closing his eyes in a sign of satisfaction.

“You’re a… mastermind!”

“Well. Sort of. I plan things. I don’t do them, but I plan them. I have a reputation among certain people of being very successful at it too. My friend wants me to plan something. I don’t know what yet, but he went through a lot of expense to get me here. If you’re going to tag along, I figure you should know what you’re getting yourself involved in. This isn’t some petty drug thing. It’s not even smuggling or slave running. It’s big, and likely political. It usually is with… my friend.”

“Is it dangerous?” Dodger asked, eyes practically sparkling.

“For me and you, if all goes well, no. For the field operatives, sure. But I just make plans.”

“You’ve been a ‘field operative’ though, haven’t you.”

Yellow-Eyes looked at her with more seriousness than she’d seen in him before. Normally he either just ignored her, or looked down on her like a child. This time he looked at her like an equal.

“Yes, Dodger. I have been. I got out of that though. It’s a bloody business and not one I recommend. But I owe my friend my life, so I come when asked. You don’t. I’ve already told you that you should go home. But you’re right. I can’t stop you. I can advise you though. Seriously advise you. Go home. If you get involved in this any more than you are right now, I don’t want to be responsible for any consequences. You’re making a very grown-up choice right now. It’s up to you, but staying with me is not wise.”

Dodger looked at the Argonian she called Yellow-Eyes. She noticed the little wrinkles around his eyes for the first time. The scar on his head looked deeper than she’d noticed too. He was certainly no young buck. His eyes had seen a lot. This was as serious as he knew how to get. He was trying his best to warn her off, but he didn’t understand that his warning had the opposite effect.

Dodger smiled back, a smile that was more mature than her years. “Thank you Yellow-Eyes. I know you’re being serious. But I also know what I’m doing. There’s nothing waiting for me back home. I need to get away. I’ll stay with you, if you’ll have me. For a little while.”

Yellow-Eyes stood up and sighed like an old man. “Mistake. But it’s your mistake Dodger. Always remember, it was your mistake. Deal?”

Dodger held out her hand and grabbed his. It felt at once strong and old at the same time. She shook it once firmly. “Deal.”

Dodger: Continuation (1)

bdprequel:

I embarrassed myself yesterday as in one day I managed to get a bunch of comments deleted on the Prequel fanart booru AND got a channel deleted in the UPD5 discord server. Okay, maybe not single-handedly, but still. So today I decided to do something completely non-lewd and prove at least to myself that I can do it. So I started work on a new story about Porcupine-Dodger, a character in one of the side-stories at prequeladventure.com who may or may not be a young Quill-Weave.

I can do this! The character is only seventeen, so I can’t (and won’t) do anything too lewd. Cross my heart! Can I still write anything of interest, that’s the question. I hope to! Here’s chapter 1:

Dodger: Continuation (1)

Her first inclination was just to return home. She was well aware of how close she had escaped slavery. Or worse. But the warmth of the drink and the relief of having escaped, along with the Argonian stranger’s words caused her to rethink that decision. Her fascination with humans in general was too deep to let his cynical words stand. And besides, if she returned now she might as well admit defeat. As weird as this day had turned out, she also realized she had learned practically nothing that she could use in her book.

“WAIT UP!” she called to the stranger and raced to catch up.

He looked at her askance. “Now hold on young one. I am no babysitter, and you have no business coming with me. Go home to your clutch. The Imperial City is no place for a hatchling like you. I’d thought you would have learned your lesson back there.”

Dodger stood defiant. “You can’t stop me. I’m going to the Imperial City with you or without you. We might as well travel together. I’m seventeen, I’ll have you know. I’m not a hatchling.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged. “But don’t expect me to be your nanny. You’re on your own when we get there. And here, give that bottle back. I don’t need a drunk hatchling…”

“Seventeen!”, she insisted.

“…drunk teenager then. I don’t need some drunk teenager staggering around slowing me down. Keep up or don’t. But you don’t need that.”

“Yes sir, Mr… what did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.”

“Well, what should I call you then?”

“You shouldn’t. But ‘Sir’ will do.”

Dodger groaned at that. This was going to be a long, boring walk.

“Well, I’m Kakar-Sutheeth,” she said, holding out her hand in the common human way of greeting. “And I’m glad to meet you.”

The stranger looked at her hand, a smile coming over his face.

“Shut up!” she said at his non-existent words. “Just call me Dodger.”

“Dodger it is then. A porcupine?”

“I said shut up about it,” she said, knowing a blush was stealing over her face against her will.

They did find a road before long, and the stranger seemed to know where he was and where he was going, so Dodger kept pace and tried not to ask too many questions until the sun began to set.

“Um… sir?”

“Yes Dodger?” he sighed as they climbed yet another hill.

“How far is it to the city? Will we get there tonight?”

“Not tonight, no. I’ll stop before nightfall. You can continue on if you like, but I’d advise against it. Unless a Legionnaire comes up behind us that wants to keep guard over you, it’s not safe at night.”

“Oh. Okay.”

They walked on for a while until he came to a stop as the sky began to darken. He pointed at last to an outcrop of rocks some way off the road. “There,” he stated.

Dodger followed dutifully, taking another drink from her water flask as she followed him.

“Do you have a knife?” he asked.

“Sure! Unlike you, I came prepared!” she said cheerfully as she dug around and produced the small blade.

“Hmph. Got any food in that pack of yours?”

“Well,” she stammered. “Not a lot. I’ve got some jerky left and a little green-leaf salad.”

“Prepared eh?” he said, looking at the knife in his hand. He looked at her again and the knife suddenly looked a lot bigger than she remembered.

“You can have it!” she said, proffering her pack whole.

“Oh relax hatchling. I’m not going to rob you. You stay here. I’ll be back in an hour or less.”

She watched his back fade into the darkness and settled in atop the rocks in a little cubby and picked at her salad. She decided that, as gruff as the stranger was, she was duty bound to offer him half anyway so she separated what she had. That crack about being prepared was stupid, she realized, and she hit herself on the head for having said it.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

But as time went on, she began to wonder if he was even going to come back. It had certainly been more than an hour and there was still no sign of him. She wouldn’t blame him if he’d abandoned her altogether. Eventually she pulled out her blanket and tried to sleep. But the breeze was cold, the blanket thin and small, and the rock was hard. She snuggled up to the rock behind her closer, the heat of the day still radiating from it a little.

She heard him return finally, whispering her name, “Dodger? Are you there?”

“Sir? Yes, I’m here.”

“Sorry, it took longer than I thought. I’ve a little food if you’re interested,” he said, climbing up to where she lay.

Dodger took one look at the raw mystery meat he offered and shook her head. “Thanks, Sir. I really appreciate it. But I’m good.”

He nodded in the darkness, her eyes able to pick out his silhouette against the night sky.

“I’d cook it if I could. I don’t eat raw meat as a habit. But a fire out here isn’t a good idea.”

“I saved you some salad,” she said, sitting up and offering it.

“Thank you, I’ll take it young one,” he said. “We’ll be in the city by midday tomorrow. My friend will put us up and feed us when we get there.”

“Oh! That would be wonderful!” she said, not hiding the delight in having a more formal plan for her future, if even just for another night. She offered him her water.

The stranger took the water bottle gratefully and drank a draft before handing it back with a grunt, then lay down with his back to her and his jacket over his shoulders. It didn’t even reach to his tail, she noticed, then looked to her own blanket. Too small but better than that.

“This is silly,” she said. “Sir, turn around.”

“Hmm?” he grunted, turning over.

She snuggled up against him, stuck her tail between his legs and put the blanket over them both, using his arm for a pillow and pulling his other arm over her.

“A human would be warmer,” he said.

“I’m sure they would,” she agreed. “But you’re all I’ve got tonight. Now don’t get fresh. Goodnight, Sir.”

“Yellow-Eyes,” he said a little later. “Call me Yellow-Eyes.”

“You don’t have yellow eyes, do you?”

“You don’t know?,” he asked.

“I’m color-blind,” Dodger admitted, a little ashamed. “I really don’t know.”

“No, they’re not yellow.” he answered, shifting a little and obviously not planning to explain further.

“SIR!” Dodger exclaimed at a sudden poke in her backside. “I SAID DON’T GET FRESH!”

Yellow-Eyes reached between them and handed her knife back to her.

Dodger laughed nervously and accepted the knife, noticing the handmade sheath of leaves he had created for it. “Oh. Heh. Sorry.”

Welcome to BDFanFic and Dodger: Continuation

I plan to use this to post my various fanfiction stuffs. Probably mostly related to http://prequeladventure.com but I might branch out too. Most are just single ‘chapters’, though I’m currently working on one concerning Porcupine Dodger that keeps growing in my brain so it’s going to be a relatively long one.

Porcupine Dodger is a character created by Kazerad who was introduced here:

http://www.prequeladventure.com/dodger-break-the-law/

She may or may not be a young version of Quill-Weave, a minor character in Elder Scrolls : Oblivion and a fairly major character in Prequel Adventure. She is a young aspiring Argonian writer who just left her home in Black Marsh to research human criminal society for her first book. After a disastrous adventure where she attempted to “buy a cocaine”, she escaped a group of slave traders/drug dealers. Oh, she is also color-blind, which explains the greyscale images somewhat. The story picks up where Kazerad’s ended.

All images (so far at least) are blatantly lifted from the page above, though I may commission some artwork for it myself from him or others.

I’ll start by reposting Dodger: Continuation (1) and (2) after this.