Never Trust the Woman Sleeping Next to You

[miss_sanguine]

It was a like a child had found the pans in the kitchen and begun banging away on them with a metal spoon—and it hurt. Oh, Kia, how it hurt! The guy's voice exploded in Monnayage's head, booming on and on without end until he thought his skull would burst open and splatter all over the place.

"Ahh—stop, stop!" he cried, turning his head away as if that would stop the noise. "Stop shouting! My head's going to split. And what are you talking about? What woman?" He noticed that some of his words slurred, his tongue not working the way it should. At this point in time he felt like he'd been run over by a carriage.

Not allowed to move? He wanted to laugh at that one. He couldn't move. Not yet, anyway. Every passing second gave him more strength, along with more pain.

<I warned you about her,> Maneki said, though there was no gloating in her voice. There might have been, were she not so colored with concern for him. Her paws pushed down on him over the bedding, trying to keep him in place.

But he had no idea what anyone was talking about.

[Haze]

"I'm not yelling though," Etharon sat forwards in his chair, craning his neck to get a better look at the man. He pursed his lips for a moment, and then ran a hand through his hair again before rubbing his eyes. "The woman - you don't remember? Man... she was gorgeous." He let a goofy little grin fall over his face as he recounted what he had managed to see of shapely legs, fiery hair and eyes the colour of molten gold.

"Said it was her room, and she found you here. She went to get some help, but she never came back." The boy shrugged. "Either way, you were bleeding pretty bad. Your kitty here is a clever one. Kept yowling till someone came up. Ah, I said that already, didn't I?"

He got up from the chair, and leaned over Monnayage, his eyes concerned, but at the same time amused at the apparent lack of memory, and at the antics of the cat. He joined in with her, and put a light hand on his shoulder to keep him still. "Doc said you lost a lot of blood, and whatever it was that happened to you, it was with something real sharp. He said too, that the swelling will go down by itself. And it wont look so bad in a few months time."

[miss_sanguine]

Not yelling. Not yelling, he said! How could the kid not be yelling, when the whole room seemed to spin with any word that came out of his mouth? And, to top it off, none of the words he was saying made any sense at all. Monnayage'd remember a woman as beautiful as the kid was describing.

<Where'd you find this guy, Maneki?> he asked with a mental wry smile. He didn't know whether to humor him or not, though it was true that he was in pain and the kid seemed to know why.

Maneki gave him a cold stare. <He was the best I could find in the given situation. The only one that would listen. Not much to look at, no. But he helped me in saving your life.>

<Saving my . . . ?>

Monnayage stared at the hand on his shoulder, then looked into Etharon's face, apprehension fluttering up into his chest like a minute hummingbird. "Won't . . . look so bad?" he repeated blankly.

His mind couldn't register what the guy was saying, but the words had a sense of foreboding to them. His hand went to his abdomen where most of the pain emanated, the bed covers shielding anything he might have felt so that all his hand rested on was the soft material.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

[Haze]

"Just careful!" Etharon cried, watching the hand sweep over the sore spots. Scratching the back of his head nervously, he tried to push Monnayage's hand away. "You really don't remember anything, do you? Man... you were a mess! I mean, you look much better now, but far out... the only time I've seen that much blood was when my brother slaughtered a pig! Blood was everywhere!"

He shuddered, and then leaned back in his chair. "You got cut, man. Like... really bad. The Doc was a healer, so you don't have any stitches or nothing, just a teeny bit of a scar. But you'll be right as rain in a few days!"

[miss_sanguine]

Monnayage might have been a little more insulted about being compared to a slaughtered pig if there hadn't been a particular word that came shortly after. A terrible word. A word Monnayage had never wanted associated with himself in any way.

"Scar?" he repeated, voice breaking like a panicked, pubescent boy.

Ignoring the boy's hand and shoving Maneki off of his chest in his quick movement, he ripped back the bed sheets with such force that they made a low snapping noise like a thick whip.

It was the ugliest thing he'd ever seen. And it was on his body. An irritated pink line across his lower torso, the sealed and healing skin puckered and swollen. He put a hand to it, horrified to find that it was real.

The kid called this a "teeny scar"?!

A kind of strangled noise found its way out of his throat at he stared at it in horror, his stomach and heart dropping down into a pit of blackness from which there was no return. He didn't know what to do, what to say. He wanted it gone! There had to be a way to get rid of it.

Why couldn't he've just died from it? Anything but this!

"Oh—oh gods! Kia!" Several other panicked expletives escaped him, some making Maneki glare at him. "What—call him back! He messed up! He has to fix it! Where is he? I'll go get him."

But when he went to push himself up, his head spun wildly and he fell back onto the pillow. Maneki growled lightly and moved back to his now bare chest, as if she could single-handedly keep him there. Why had this happened? What had he done to deserve this?

[Haze]

Etharon moved back from the guy's sudden movements. He looked a little stricken himself. He didn't want to be responsible for the man's slow recovery. And it was going to be slow if he kept moving around like this. "Hey - hey stop! Slow down -" he protests were useless though. Etharon's wide eyes flickered between the scar and Monnayage's face.

"You can't go get the doctor now!" Etharon laughed, a little incredulous, "There's nothing wrong with you! It'll look better soon...

"Jeez man, calm down! I mean, it's just a scar! Even I got one!" Trying to calm the other man down, he lifted his shirt to reveal a silvery line running on his right side side just a little up from his hip, and running diagonally up his stomach. " See!"

[miss_sanguine]

"Nothing wrong with me?" Monnayage wailed. At this point he didn't care that the guy saw him acting like a spoiled child. "I'm ruined! I'm revolting! No woman will ever want to look at me now."

And then he looked over and saw the kid's scar; a grotesque tarnishing of features that might otherwise have been desirable were the owner of the body not so scrawny and gangly. A tarnishing feature Monnayage too would now have.

He made no effort in hiding his disgust at what the guy was showing him, his weakness making him lose any tact he might have had. "It's not just a scar," he said, once again focused on himself, shaking his head and practically mewling like a cat in distress. "It's a death sentence. Do me a favor, will you? And just kill me now?"

<You're acting like a kitten,> Maneki said, then shook her head. <No. That would be an insult to cats. You're acting like a human child. I will not let you kill yourself over something so trivial. Yes, it's extremely ugly, but I went through too much trouble to save your life for you to go and die. So stay still,> she lay down on his chest,<and stop being ridiculous.>

[Haze]

Etharon snorted. This guy is crazy! I mean, it's only a little scar, and he thinks he's revolting? He's not revolting! He's a good looking guy. He nodded to himself, and once Monnayage had finished his lamenting, he piped up.

"I'm not going to kill you! Man - you are worse than Shoshanna and Miriym with the theatrics. Anyone would think you'd had a leg missing or something." He shook his head and chuckled. "Don't worry, you are not revolting. You're really good looking! I mean - hah - I mean, your face is nice... and... uhm..." he was going bright red, realising that what he was saying could be taken in a very different way if he wasn't careful. But, as always, he was unable to stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

"You have nice arms, and when the scar settles, it'll be a ... be a... a story! Yeah! And you can tell all the girls that you were in a fight to save a ... a..." his eyes searched around the room, and only found Maneki. "No, not a cat... a BABY! Yeah! Tell 'em you were saving a baby from a wolf or something."

[miss_sanguine]

Soshimmi and Mirr—what? How could this guy be talking about himself when he, Monnayage the magnificent, was going through a personal crisis?

At the mention of a lost leg, Monnayage had to check to make sure that he did, in fact, still have both of them, lifting the covers that now only hid everything below his hips to see. And yes, he did have both legs.

He didn't realize his room partner was still speaking until he looked back up.

Was he . . . was he hitting on him? And now the kid was blushing, oh gods. What kind of sick, twisted person would hit on a guy, let alone a guy that lay dying in bed, ready to commit suicide? Sure, he was good-looking, much less so now that he had a scar, but still!

Brow quirked, Monnayage stared. Then he shook his head, a movement that made his head swim. "Look, kid. I know you're trying to help, but you don't understand. I can't have a scar! And why the hell can't I remember anything?"

[Haze]

Etharon was confused. If it had been him, lying in the bed, he would have just been thankful to be alive. Was this stranger really so vain that he felt like his world was coming crashing down, just because of a scar? He flopped himself back into the deat, crossing a leg over his kness, and folded his arms loosely across his chest. With his head tilted to one side, he narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, as if trying to tell whether or not having a scar was actually going to do the man permanent damage, besides the obvious marring of skin.

He shrugged it off. There was no point in talking about it any more, or for now, anyway. It was clear the other was worked up about it, when he should have been resting. Trying to defuse the potentially volatile situation, he changed tack.

"Maybe you were, I dunno... poisoned or something? What's the last thing you remember? Whenever I lost something, my mother used to always have try and retrace my steps. You should try it!"

[miss_sanguine]

Still in self-pity over the scar on his torso, Monnayage put one arm on his forehead dramatically and turned his head a little to groan. In pain, weak, and ugly, this was the worst day of his life.

His head still ached, though the sounds of himself and the other talking didn't bother it as much as it had. When he thought back to what he could last remember, it throbbed mercilessly. Images swam in and out of focus, moving too quickly for him to grasp them—it was like trying to grab smoke or fog.

"I remember . . . floral curtains," he said, dead pan. How that was even remotely helpful was beyond him. "And . . . the smell of almonds."

He couldn't have been poisoned! Who would want to poison him? He had no enemies. That he couldn't think of, anyway. Sure he annoyed other guys, but it was out of sport.

"Gods, I wish I'd died," he finally said. All he could think about was the blemish on his beautiful skin.

<You met a woman here at the whorehouse,> Maneki said. <I imagine she poisoned your water when you—we—weren't looking. Then she led you up here and tried to kill you.> He chin came up in indignation. <She literally threw me out of the room, and you did nothing to stop her. But I forgive you.>

Monnayage opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling in thought. "The woman. Did she say anything to you?"

[Haze]

"Well, that helps a lot," Etharon rolled his eyes at Monnayage's recollections, and again at the melodrama. Definitely Miryim. She's just like that. One broken fingernail and the world is falling down around her ears. The boy scratched the back of his head, and then just sat back for a while. Things had fallen silent for a time, and he was glad that the whining had stopped. Gave him a chance to think.

If the guy couldn't remember, then it was most likely he'd been poisoned. Or taken a knock to the head. But that woman. Yeah ... there had been something strange about her. "Well, when I first came up, she said she was busy, and had a client. And then she saw the cat, and started flipping out. And then..." he rubbed at his temple, "... Then she said something about being glad I was there, and that she'd just found you..."

He frowned. Something isn't right with that picture. She was all grumpy one minute, and then all worried the next. One minute she didn't want me here, and the next I was a life-saver, and could I watch him while she got a doctor. Which she never did.

"Man, I think that lady did it! I think she tried to kill you!" His eyes flickered over to the door, and then back to Monnayage. "We should get out of here. But wait... you can't go anywhere. What are we going to do? I mean... this is someone's room! A room in a brothel, I mean. And ... well... I guess you are good looking enough to be a Peach, right? Could you pretend? If we needed to?"

[miss_sanguine]

Great. So there was a woman out there that wanted him dead. That turned his insides to stone—a gloom as dark as shadows washing over him and mingling with the depression he already felt for the permanent injury to his good looks.

Never would he harm one of the opposite sex; never would he demean her, make her uncomfortable, do anything to disrespect her. Not willingly, at least. He prided himself on his moral character, the one distinguishing difference between himself and his brother. Yet somehow he'd come to make an enemy from one he never wanted to be an enemy toward.

Had he said or done something offensive when he'd been poisoned? Even as the thought took hold and he almost become overwhelmed by fear for what he might have done, he realized that no, he had not. The way Maneki spoke of the assailant, she'd been after him from the beginning.

"I could pretend," he finally said in a low tone, voice buried under his arm that still rested on his face. "But what would be the point? With this scar, I'm ugly. I'll never pass off as anything more than a beggar, a vagabond!"

With another groan, he grabbed the pillow he lay on and pulled it out from under his head to press it to his face, a half-hearted attempt to smother himself. "Besides," he said into the down-filled pillow whose smell of almonds made him feel sick to his stomach, his voice even more muffled. "No one's going to kick us out. We're in a brothel. Clients stay in rooms for hours at a time sometimes."

Gods. How long had he been here, anyway? Days? His stomach felt as hollow as a cave. And as if to echo his thoughts, Maneki promptly said, <All of this caring for you like a mother cat has made me hungry.>

[Haze]

"You really need to meet Miryim," Etharon laughed, trying to take the pillow from Monnayage. "Man, come on. It's tiny. It'll fade, and you'll never even notice it." He sighed, and sat back. If Monnayage wanted to smother himself now, Etharon wasn't going to stop him. He was still trying to figure out how he got into this mess, exactly.

Sitting. That's all I was doing. And not even inside, either! 'Least now they can't say I never been in one of these places. Dallagahn and Ellowin aint never been here, I bet. Bet I could even make it sound like I actually... did something with ... a girl. Yeah. Spent a night in a Peach's room. That'll make a good-

One, two short raps on the door forced Etharon's head up, and his face paled at the voice that came through the heavy wood.

"Korbane! Is the job done?"

Etharon's eyes were as wide as saucers. "Hide!" He hissed, before grabbing the blankets, and throwing them over Monnayage's head, not caring whether he was upsetting the cat or not. He leapt up and ran for the door. "Y-y-yes!?" He called, forcing his voice into a falsetto.

"He's dead then?"

"Y-y-yes?" Hie eyes darted around the room. He was scared as anything.

"Let me see..." The door handle turned, and Etharon pushed his body up against the door. He had his back pressed flat up against it, palms smacked against the grain. His eyes were wildly darting to and fro. "No! No... you can't come in. He ... uh... he smells!"

A low growling was heard. "Korbane... I'm coming in." The door heaved, and Etharon went sprawling across the floor. In stepped a surly looking man, hand clenched around a dagger. His eyes went to the bed, and then to Etharon.

"What the fuck!?"

[miss_sanguine]

Monnayage only half listened to the kid's horrible attempts at cheering him up. It was hard to take to heart what someone with a giant, ugly scar on his body had to say, especially when that someone considered said giant, ugly scar to be nothing. Any mark on Monnayage's perfect skin made his heart fester with blackness; and now here he was with something permanent, something that wouldn't just heal over as if nothing had happened.

Of course he would notice it. Of all people, he would notice something that didn't belong on his body. Only an idiot would think otherwise.

Then there came a knock at the door, a hard rap that bellied a secretive curtness, and as he tried to register what the voice said from beyond the door, a blanket was suddenly thrown on top of him. Maneki yowled angrily at the invasion of darkness, squirming around until she found her way out from under it.

Moving the pillow from off of his face, Monnayage pulled the blanket down and turned to stare as the kid ran around like a chicken with its head cut off, then proceeded to slam himself up against the door as the handle started to turn. Before Monnayage could register what the hell was going on, the human door blockade went flying across the room and a stranger stood in the doorway.

By what the man had been asking, about someone being dead, this could only be someone involved in what had happened to him. Someone responsible for his new—oh, Kia, he hated even using the word—scar.

Ignoring the pain and dizziness that threatened to pull him down into a blanket of blackness, Monnayage sat up, the effort all but draining him. The stranger had suddenly become familiar to him. "You—I recognize you," he said through clenched teeth, baffled. This was the guy he'd met at some bar the other night, the disgruntled one with the attractive female friend that hadn't been able to resist Monnayage's charms.

Through his spinning head, he couldn't understand what this guy was doing here, in a Brothel of all places, when he had a girl already—and a fine girl at that. "What—what are talking about, my being dead?"

[Haze]

Etharon scrambled up from the floor in a tangle of long limbs, and reached for the little dagger at his side. Not that he knew how to use it, but anything right now was better than nothing. The man however, just sneered at him, and turned his attention to Monnayage. "Why aren't you dead?" He questioned, before stalking over to the bed. His hands were balled into meaty fists, ready to hammer Monnayage himself, seeing as how his precious coin had gone to waste with the useless assassin.

"You. You are supposed to be dead. Never pay a woman to do a man's job." He glared, and inched closer. "Who do you think you are, little rich boy, that you can go flirting with any girl you like, hmm? And boys to, by the looks," he cast an uncaring look to the quivering boy by the door, and snorted. "Fat lot of use your boyfriend is. Look at him, wobbling like jelly."

"Hey!" Etharon cried indignantly, even though it was true. The knife in his hands was jiggling unsteadily in his sweaty hands. The man turned his attention back to Monnayage.

"Well, you wont be flirting no more. You're going to be dead. Now get up, and fight me like a man. I want to know I killed you fair and square."

[miss_sanguine]

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Monnayage couldn't ground his mind or his thoughts. He felt like he was floating between reality and some fuzzy place where nothing needed to make sense. He watched as the man approached, fists balled, and blinked. This guy, whom he'd only met once with his attractive woman, wanted him dead?

Things didn't add up.

Seeing the advancing threat, Maneki spat loudly, ears pulled back, and came to the edge of the bed, muscles tensed. Monnayage could feel her intimidating menace, bleary as it was, in his mind and it gave him extra strength.

He looked to the kid on the floor with his shaking hands and inexperienced hold on his weapon. Pride was something Monnayage had a lot of, and even with this being a life or death situation, he couldn't let this man go and think things that just weren't true. "He's not a boyfriend," he said, wanting to curse at how his words slurred with the effort of keeping himself upright. His mouth and the rest of his body didn't want to work at the same time, it being too strenuous.

So this beef of a man—this commoner—was responsible for the scar on his body. Responsible for the end of his life as he knew it. That grated, and he found himself pulling his legs out over the side of the bed regardless of the pain and dizziness it caused. He laughed through it, a mocking chuckle. "Fair and square?" he repeated. "So you call cornering a man that's been gravely injured by a woman you hired to kill him 'fair and square'? I think—" he winced and clutched at the closed wound as Maneki went about trying to force back onto his back with her paws, "I think you need to get your priorities set straight, dear sir."

Too weak. He was too weak to fight, but there was no way he was going to turn down a challenge. He'd too much pride for that. However, as he slowly got to his feet, blackness crawled into his vision and he stumbled forward, cursing loudly as he fell into the man, grabbing at his large shoulders to keep himself up.

<Monnayage! Get back into bed. I can handle him!> Maneki said, half pleading, a tone she rarely used.

[Haze]

The man looked down at Monnayage in disdain, and pushed him back. "Pah. Can't even stand up straight. Well then," he cast a look over his shoulder to Etharon, still holding the knife in his quaking hand. He rolled his eyes, and turned his attention back to Monnayage. "Okay. So we make this a fair fight then. I'll be waiting. Watching. You better watch your back." Then he spat at Monnayage's feet, and turned to leave.

To Etharon, he was like a mountain - not that he was much taller than the boy himself, but he looked unmovable. He squeaked out "D-d-d-don't hurt me!" The other laughed roughly, and let a fist fly, knocking Etharon squarly against the jaw. Etharon felt his head rock back with the impact, and stars danced in his vision. The knife in his hand dropped with a clatter, as he reeled backwards, and slumped down to the ground, holding his chin in his hands. The man snorted as he went out the door. "Name's Higham. Don't forget it."

With that hell just happened? Etharon thought, trying to shake the dazed splotches from his vision. "You ... you get back into bed," he mumbled, looking up to Monnayage. "And then we gotta work out how to get you hidden from him."

[miss_sanguine]

The man's shoulder proved to be great support for Monnayage trying to get his balance back, but then he felt hands on him and he was forcefully shoved back onto the bed, the sudden movement and impact sending sharp pain up from his side. All he could do was curse loudly and try not to pass out.

When he recovered his sense, he opened his eyes in time to see his assailant spit at his feet. The act repulsed him and he made a face, but the guy was already turning to leave.

"No!" Monnayage said, trying to sit back up and failing. "I can fight you now! Why hire someone to kill me and then not even finish the job? I should--" but his words were cut short when there came the sound of a fist on flesh, followed by something metal hitting the ground, then something heavier.

Higham. He would remember the name. He wasn't normally one to hold a grudge--in fact, he couldn't remember ever having done so, but this Higham was the cause of his scar, his ugliness.

"Get me up off this bed, dammit," he said. "I don't want to be hidden."

[Haze]

"No way," Etharon wheezed, rolling himself into a ball, and then onto his knees, finally pushing himself up to stand. "Nuh-uh," he repeated, staggering across to Monnayage. Trying to look concerned amongst a sudden onset of nauseousness, the gangly young man picked up Monnayage's feet and turned them, trying to ensure that the other was well and truly settled into bed. He even went far enough as to throw the blankets at the invalid, before dropping into the chair with a heavy thud.

His head came crashing down into his hands. "What are we going to do? I mean - you can't do anything, and I'm about as much use as a noodle. I can't believe I just stood there. I'm sorry man, I'm really sorry." He sounded pitiful, and as he peered through his fingers, he looked just as distraught.

"What the hell did you do, anyways? It seems you got a big problem with ladies. One lures you up, and tried to kill you, but only cause you were hitting on someone else's missus! Far out! Keep it in your pants, already!"