NaDruWriNi: The Wild Hunt
Nov. 6th, 2021 10:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_siobhanSo this comes from soembody refering to being at a bar to pick up as "being on the hunt" and for some reason it grabbed onto a recent reference I saw to The Wild Hunt
So here you go, the Wild Hunt in a bar.
---
Jake had never wanted to be a bartender.
Bar-tending was just a side gig. Jake wanted to be a programmer – more specifically he wanted to write programs for games. He had spent thousands to go to college and learn how to write games for chrisake. Slinging cocktails to drunk uptown assholes was just a way to get his rent paid in the meantime.
He should have known something was wrong when the music broke. Corporate piped in this entirely forgettable easy-listening background noise specifically designed by neurologists to better separate rich people from their wallets. It had probably been going wrong for a while before he twigged, getting... growly. Discordant. And louder, which is why he finally noticed it. It made a shiver run up his spine when it finally caught his attention, it sounded so... well, it sounded wrong somehow. It was probably because it was just so unexpected.
He sent the barback to the back room to see if somebody had changed the channel by mistake. That was when he turned back to the cash register and realized there was a vine growing up the side of the bar.
Like growing, growing. It was black and mostly made of stalk and spikes, and it branched up across the marble counter-top and settled across the surface, long thorns arching out of the expanding stem. Jake prodded at it and managed to snatch his hand back with only a small scratch as it twisted in response.
Right. Vines. He lifted his eyes to see them tangling over the door and up the walls of the bar.
At this point the worst possible thing that could have happened... happened. The customers noticed.
The door was pretty much covered with growth at this point. The vines proved impervious to cigarette lighters, the small (albeit very sharp) knife used to cut limes for the drinks and the slightly larger but much less sharp swiss army knife some punter inexplicably had in their laptop bag. There was a lot of complaining about how Jake was still charging for drinks in what was obviously an apocalypse type of situation, but eventually everybody settled down. The music was getting louder. Jake was developing a headache.
Jake had no idea how long the dance floor had been there before he noticed it. One minute he was massaging his temples, the next he looked out into the room and there were... people dancing, in a space ythat had no exited before. Where there had once been a wall. For a very broad definition of “people”, he thought as he watched them. The music was very loud now and it seemed that the bar had somehow grown a smoke machine, one that smelled like wood smoke and match heads. And maybe a little bit like those awful clove cigarettes that the kids from the university bar like to smoke.
The first one that came to the bar ordered tequila shots. She was seven feet tall and had poison-green eyes with no pupils and horns like a gazelle’s that dug groves into the plaster ceiling when she turned her head. He watched her pick up the tray wth fleshless fingers that showed the movement of bones under her skin.
Some of them looked almost human and it was only the way they moved that tipped him off. Or their pupiless eyes. Or their voices, sounding like they came from miles under water. He served them all. Otehrs were more obvious. Like the man made out of knives. Or the one in black who Jake could not seem to focus on well enough to figure out if he was serving a man or a woman while wisps of smoke trailed off their profile every time they moved.
They were several rounds in before The Big One – as Jake thought of him - came up to the bar. He looked something like a human, if himans had evolved from bison instead of primates and had somewhow become carnivarous somewhere in the process. He leaned a massive forearm onto the bar and the glossy oak surface crackled under his weight.
“Another round of shots,” he said. “And give me somethin’ sweet with one of those little umbrella things. She likes sweet.”
Jake glanced over at the crowd. One of hte lawyers was sitting on a table, her hair down and the top buttons open on her blouse. She was a regular, usually coming in with a cadre of her co-workers and Jake had never seen her drink anything but a single glass of neat bourbon.
“I have a pomagranite special that’s really nice.”
“Sounds great. Hook me up.”
Jake poured the shots and mixed the drink, aware the whole time of the creature casting it’s shadow across the bar. He finally set the finished cocktail onto the tray and the thing grinned at him. That smile alone was made out of nightmares.
“Thanks kid.” He put something on the bar that clinked. Jake blinked down at what looked like an old-fashioned gate key in a dull gold colour and with carvings etched into the shaft that seemd to twist under his eyes.
“you wanna hang onto that,” said The Thing. “Don’t give it to your boss”
Jake nodded and picked it up. He wieghed it in his hand while The Thing carried away a tray htat looked like a tea saucer in those massive paws. It was oddly warm. He put the key into his pocket.
The night went on, human and non-human clients coming up to the bar to buy their alcohol. An older woman came up and set an empty glass on the bar.
“Another gin and tonic, please,” she said. She had white hair in a bob and wore a conservative tweed suit. He put her used glass in the dishwasher and pulled a bottle of high-end gin off the bar.
“Nice place you have here,” she said while he poured hte gin. “This is my first time in this bar and it’s been... an interesting night.”
“Your picked a weird night to visit,” said Jake. He pushed the glass over the bar. “I mean, we usually have a bunch of monsters in the bar, but then these strangers showed up as well.”
Sjhe grinned at him. “I find them quite charming.”
“The monsters or the lawyers?”
“Yes.” She sipped her drink. She tilted her head back to smile at him and he realized with a jolt that although her glasses were completely clear somehow he couldn’t still see her eyes.
“Oh.” He swallowed. “I’m sorry. You’re... you’r with them, aren’t you.”
She tilted her head down and looked over her glasses. He could see her eyes now, soft and brown and ordinary and he had the sudden impression of something incomprehensably old and unfathomably large peering through a cut out in a cardboard mask.
Then the spell was broken as she smiled and pushed her eyeglasses up her nose before patting his hand. “Oh no,” she said. “They’re with me.”
He watched her as she picked up her glass and walked away.
It was dawn by the time they left. Jake was sitting on the fllor behidn the bar, hius eyes half closed when a movement in the corner of his eye caught hsi attention. The vines were retreating, sliding back over the bar and sinking into the ground. He stood up and the dance floor was gone, replaced with the usual wall of dark textured wallpapers and gilt-framed mirrors.
Jakle walked aroudn the room and waked the custeromers where they were passed out on the booth seats. There were fewer of them now, he noticed. The lawyer with her fruity drinks was missing. The few of them that remained stood together, swaying with exaustion while the last of the vines retreated, shirts hanging untucked from their belts, ties clutched in their hands.
Jake waved htem all out and locked up. The sun was watery adn he squinted in the morning light. He set off down the city sidewalk towards home. The key in his pocket was heavy, shifting against his thigh as he walked.
It felt warm and he knew it was only a matter of time before he anwwered the invitation.
So here you go, the Wild Hunt in a bar.
---
Jake had never wanted to be a bartender.
Bar-tending was just a side gig. Jake wanted to be a programmer – more specifically he wanted to write programs for games. He had spent thousands to go to college and learn how to write games for chrisake. Slinging cocktails to drunk uptown assholes was just a way to get his rent paid in the meantime.
He should have known something was wrong when the music broke. Corporate piped in this entirely forgettable easy-listening background noise specifically designed by neurologists to better separate rich people from their wallets. It had probably been going wrong for a while before he twigged, getting... growly. Discordant. And louder, which is why he finally noticed it. It made a shiver run up his spine when it finally caught his attention, it sounded so... well, it sounded wrong somehow. It was probably because it was just so unexpected.
He sent the barback to the back room to see if somebody had changed the channel by mistake. That was when he turned back to the cash register and realized there was a vine growing up the side of the bar.
Like growing, growing. It was black and mostly made of stalk and spikes, and it branched up across the marble counter-top and settled across the surface, long thorns arching out of the expanding stem. Jake prodded at it and managed to snatch his hand back with only a small scratch as it twisted in response.
Right. Vines. He lifted his eyes to see them tangling over the door and up the walls of the bar.
At this point the worst possible thing that could have happened... happened. The customers noticed.
The door was pretty much covered with growth at this point. The vines proved impervious to cigarette lighters, the small (albeit very sharp) knife used to cut limes for the drinks and the slightly larger but much less sharp swiss army knife some punter inexplicably had in their laptop bag. There was a lot of complaining about how Jake was still charging for drinks in what was obviously an apocalypse type of situation, but eventually everybody settled down. The music was getting louder. Jake was developing a headache.
Jake had no idea how long the dance floor had been there before he noticed it. One minute he was massaging his temples, the next he looked out into the room and there were... people dancing, in a space ythat had no exited before. Where there had once been a wall. For a very broad definition of “people”, he thought as he watched them. The music was very loud now and it seemed that the bar had somehow grown a smoke machine, one that smelled like wood smoke and match heads. And maybe a little bit like those awful clove cigarettes that the kids from the university bar like to smoke.
The first one that came to the bar ordered tequila shots. She was seven feet tall and had poison-green eyes with no pupils and horns like a gazelle’s that dug groves into the plaster ceiling when she turned her head. He watched her pick up the tray wth fleshless fingers that showed the movement of bones under her skin.
Some of them looked almost human and it was only the way they moved that tipped him off. Or their pupiless eyes. Or their voices, sounding like they came from miles under water. He served them all. Otehrs were more obvious. Like the man made out of knives. Or the one in black who Jake could not seem to focus on well enough to figure out if he was serving a man or a woman while wisps of smoke trailed off their profile every time they moved.
They were several rounds in before The Big One – as Jake thought of him - came up to the bar. He looked something like a human, if himans had evolved from bison instead of primates and had somewhow become carnivarous somewhere in the process. He leaned a massive forearm onto the bar and the glossy oak surface crackled under his weight.
“Another round of shots,” he said. “And give me somethin’ sweet with one of those little umbrella things. She likes sweet.”
Jake glanced over at the crowd. One of hte lawyers was sitting on a table, her hair down and the top buttons open on her blouse. She was a regular, usually coming in with a cadre of her co-workers and Jake had never seen her drink anything but a single glass of neat bourbon.
“I have a pomagranite special that’s really nice.”
“Sounds great. Hook me up.”
Jake poured the shots and mixed the drink, aware the whole time of the creature casting it’s shadow across the bar. He finally set the finished cocktail onto the tray and the thing grinned at him. That smile alone was made out of nightmares.
“Thanks kid.” He put something on the bar that clinked. Jake blinked down at what looked like an old-fashioned gate key in a dull gold colour and with carvings etched into the shaft that seemd to twist under his eyes.
“you wanna hang onto that,” said The Thing. “Don’t give it to your boss”
Jake nodded and picked it up. He wieghed it in his hand while The Thing carried away a tray htat looked like a tea saucer in those massive paws. It was oddly warm. He put the key into his pocket.
The night went on, human and non-human clients coming up to the bar to buy their alcohol. An older woman came up and set an empty glass on the bar.
“Another gin and tonic, please,” she said. She had white hair in a bob and wore a conservative tweed suit. He put her used glass in the dishwasher and pulled a bottle of high-end gin off the bar.
“Nice place you have here,” she said while he poured hte gin. “This is my first time in this bar and it’s been... an interesting night.”
“Your picked a weird night to visit,” said Jake. He pushed the glass over the bar. “I mean, we usually have a bunch of monsters in the bar, but then these strangers showed up as well.”
Sjhe grinned at him. “I find them quite charming.”
“The monsters or the lawyers?”
“Yes.” She sipped her drink. She tilted her head back to smile at him and he realized with a jolt that although her glasses were completely clear somehow he couldn’t still see her eyes.
“Oh.” He swallowed. “I’m sorry. You’re... you’r with them, aren’t you.”
She tilted her head down and looked over her glasses. He could see her eyes now, soft and brown and ordinary and he had the sudden impression of something incomprehensably old and unfathomably large peering through a cut out in a cardboard mask.
Then the spell was broken as she smiled and pushed her eyeglasses up her nose before patting his hand. “Oh no,” she said. “They’re with me.”
He watched her as she picked up her glass and walked away.
It was dawn by the time they left. Jake was sitting on the fllor behidn the bar, hius eyes half closed when a movement in the corner of his eye caught hsi attention. The vines were retreating, sliding back over the bar and sinking into the ground. He stood up and the dance floor was gone, replaced with the usual wall of dark textured wallpapers and gilt-framed mirrors.
Jakle walked aroudn the room and waked the custeromers where they were passed out on the booth seats. There were fewer of them now, he noticed. The lawyer with her fruity drinks was missing. The few of them that remained stood together, swaying with exaustion while the last of the vines retreated, shirts hanging untucked from their belts, ties clutched in their hands.
Jake waved htem all out and locked up. The sun was watery adn he squinted in the morning light. He set off down the city sidewalk towards home. The key in his pocket was heavy, shifting against his thigh as he walked.
It felt warm and he knew it was only a matter of time before he anwwered the invitation.
(no subject)
Date: 2021-11-07 06:17 am (UTC)Plus the idea rocks.
So, yay you!
(the bartender was from Cheers in my head, for some reason)P
(no subject)
Date: 2021-11-07 12:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-11-07 02:38 pm (UTC)This was awesome to read.
(no subject)
Date: 2021-11-08 04:44 pm (UTC)