Stumbling Up: A Loster's Guide to Progression - Chapter 59: Collared

My heart quivered as Meredeath pulled my hand down a set of narrow stairs.

I felt like Minvi, my first girlfriend, was pulling me into the field after school.

We were about to do something forbidden.

The walls of the stairs billowed out, made of a velvet that sensually caressed my bare arms. They'd put me in a leather vest, leaving my farmer's tan on full display.

The stairwell had been in a back alley of the Red Eaves district. Painted black, with dim pinpoints of light from the room above as our only illumination, it felt dangerous.

Meredeath squeezed my fingers as she got to the landing, a large ironclad door barring our way. She lifted a pale, dainty hand, knocking hard. A slit opened, revealing a dark face with white eyes. I tried to act cool. The man looked as if he was possessed.

Maybe that was the point.

He looked at me and shook his head. "You have the wrong club."

The slit closed sharply, dismissing us.

Meredeath looked at me, frowning as though to say What'd you do?

She knocked hard again. This time her hand flared with a green fire.

The slit opened again. The annoyed man said, "I told you..." His voice trailed off as he examined Meredeath's fiery green eyes.

"He's mine," she said. The statement felt like all the promise of the night rolled into one simple sentence.

Richard licked my ear.

Now you're mine.

I wiped the saliva off. For fuck's sake!

I didn’t want to bring the slug, but we all decided he couldn’t be left alone, and Tandy and Leo weren’t in the mood.

Richard had acquiesced to a bit of eyeliner, and Meredeath had even turned some of his black spots into mini skulls.

My brother, Hitch, used to follow Minvi and I around like an unwanted slimy chaperone.

"Fine, but there's a cover charge of one silver for him."

The slot closed as the sound of bars sliding filled the confined space. I didn't have any silver. Part of me was relieved the expedition was getting cut short.

The man stood, white eyes eerily contrasting in the dark foyer he stood in. His muscled arms crossed, with leather strips crisscrossed against his skin.

Meredeath smiled, she slipped a finger between her breasts pulling out a silver coin. I stopped myself from asking how she'd gotten it.

It was the same bedeviled smile Mivni’d had when she snuck a contraband flagon of ale into my loft that I’d gotten blamed for later.

The next day she hadn't defended me when I'd been accused of pilfering it. What could I say? They found the flagon in my loft.

The silver exchanged, the man eyed me once more. He shrugged, as though abdicating all responsibility for my fate. He closed the door behind us, sliding the bars into place.

Who were they trying to keep out? Because if it were me? I could be okay with that.

This is going to be good.

I highly doubted it.

The inner door swung open, introducing me to magically enhanced club music for the first time. The beat was heavy, as a flicker triggered. They usually reserved flicker light shows for large outdoor festivals. This one was blinking a hundred times a minute indoors. I tried not to look directly at it, my eyes already beginning to see spots.

We were standing on a platform. A catwalk of sorts above a cavern. I should have expected the club would be underground, considering how much the city leveraged the caverns. Stalagmites reached up from the ground, casting shadows into the dark corners. Cages dangled from the ceiling, containing scantily clad dancers who gyrated to the music.

I almost asked if they needed rescuing, but Meredeath pulled me down the stairs towards the bar.

The squeeze was tight, and the smell of patchouli heavy.

My stomach clenched with unease.

Minvi’d moved in quickly after her parents kicked her out, my tiny apartment squeezed tight with the two of us.

I survived that summer.

I could do this.

I walked, the winged shoulders of my vest providing a perfect platform for Richard. He'd adjusted his spotting to darken, matching the aesthetic of the place. My eyelids itched with smoky eyeshadow. I refrained from touching my eyes, constantly in fear of smudging Meredeath's work. Looking around, I didn't stand out as much as I'd feared. The place was full of people of all shapes and sizes. The only similarity seemed to be a propensity for black.

Several folks seemed to hold minor multicolored flickers dancing around, burning the image of flashing lights into my retinas.

"Let's get a drink!" Meredeath shouted towards me. She didn't have to say that twice.

Two topless, skinny men manned the bar. One had his nipples pierced while the other flexed his pecs, shaking a drink.

"What do you want?" The nipple bartender asked as we leaned over the counter.

Meredeath pulled another silver from her bra and ordered a martini. She pointed at me.

"I'll take a beer." I coughed out.

And a hot pepper.

"And a hot pepper. The hotter the better." The guy gave me an odd look. I pointed at the slug. He shook his head as though he'd had stranger requests.

"A beer, really? We're supposed to enjoy ourselves." Meredeath yelled, leaning back against the bar as she scanned the dancers. I tried to mirror her nonchalance, awkwardly leaning against the bar trying not to make eye contact with any of the dancers.

The music changed. This time it was high-pitched. I could feel Richard's slime vibrate in time with the screeching tune. I really tried not to wince, but I'm sure I looked miserable.

Meredeath looked at me and sighed, "I knew this was a mistake."

I opened my mouth to argue. To lie, but was confronted with a mental flash of Minvi ambushing me.

I knew you were a mistake. Minvi said as she left the last time, slamming the door after we'd fought about money.

I just nodded at Meredeath. No part of this night was in my comfort zone, but I was an adult. She could have her fun without me.

"I'm fine. Don't let me stop you from having fun. I'm just going to have my beer and then I'll go." The words tasted like defeat.

I smelled a hint of lavender for months after I’d found out Minvi’d been cheating on me. Leo and Tandy had saved me, circling in, trying not to tell me they’d told me so.

Meredeath's martini arrived. She deftly plucked an olive off the toothpick and held it out for Richard.

I watched in disgust as he ate the salty snack, foaming as it hit his slime. From what I could tell, his eating pickled food was a bit like a human eating a lemon. Sour, and weirdly pleasant in small quantities.

My beer came with a hot pepper split like an orange wheel perched on the side of my mug.

I took a quick sip. The beer tasted like the ghost of Richard’s pepper floated in the foam. Sheep-cursed slug and his pepper fetish. I quickly removed it, handing it off to Richard.

"You sure you're okay?" Meredeath asked one last time.

"Yeah, I'll just go sit over there," I said, squinting as I pointed to a small empty booth. She nodded, eyes already on the dance floor. She'd found a giant bear of a man who'd dyed his red beard black and braided one side with a white skull bead dangling. How could I compete with him?

I shimmied over along the side of the room. The space behind the stalagmites seemed reserved for couples. My face burned as I got a glimpse of two women making out, clothes in disarray.

"Ten-minute break!" a voice called from above as the flicker and music cut. Dim lights snapped on, which, from the groans of the crowd, might well have been dawn.

I quickly grabbed an empty table before it got snapped up, putting Richard on the table with his pepper. Dull clangs sounded while the stagehands lowered the cage dancers to the floor. The male dancers wore nothing but jockstraps and glitter. The women looked like they'd lost a battle with a pair of fabric scissors. Everyone glistened with sweat, oil, and sparkles.

Replacement dancers jumped into the cages. They waved, blowing kisses at the crowd as the cages lifted into the air.

"New here?" a girl slid into the booth across from me. She had pointy ears and short spiky hair.

"How'd you guess?" I said dryly.

“I have never seen a slug walk in before.”

I laughed. Gods, it felt good to laugh.

Richard raised his head, the butt of the hot pepper hanging out of his mouth like a cigar.

You laughing at me?

"Yeah, banana slugs are probably rare in the city."

"Did you know their slime has numbing properties?" She looked at Richard with a glint of avarice.

"You are an alchemist?" I asked. I wasn't anxious. If she stole a little of Richard's slime... well, he left it everywhere.

She leaned forward trying to get a closer look at Richard and bumped my beer. It sloshed over the side.

"Oh sorry, here, let me dab that up." Almost magically, she produced a cloth napkin soaking up the mess. "Yeah, I'm an alchemist of sorts. I just haven't seen a slug like this specimen. Mind if I grab a glob of slime?"

"Go right ahead." I waved at Richard, giving her permission. He didn’t seem to mind. She took out a spoon and scraped a bit of slime into a bottle.

"Much obliged!" With a nod, the woman was off.

I took another sip of my beer. The music kicked back up. The noise and flashing slammed into my psyche. I focused on Richard, his tentacles bouncing in rhythm. I could see the slime vibrating off his skin, puddling under his body. Glancing out into the morass of tight leather and naked chests, I caught a glimpse of Meredeath on the shoulders of the mountain man holding onto the bottom of a cage as it swung in the air.

Nipples, the bartender, was yelling, “Down, witch!”

Meredeath blew him a kiss to the crowd’s amusement. She did not get down.

She's just your type.

The problem was that Richard was right. Sarcasm aside. Meredeath was mysterious. Dark. I didn't understand her. Minvi was similar, in a Woodsten way. She had a dark streak, a daring edge that drew me like a moth to the flame. I just wanted to know what it was to let go.

My back was firmly locked in place. I took another sip of beer. For a cavern, it was boiling down here. Self-introspection did that.

My head bounced along with the music. The only experience I had with dancing was the prancing ribbon dance of our Maypole festival. The vest had dug in at my armpit, and the chaps I'd thrown on over my normal pants creased awkwardly against the back of my knees.

I'm sure if I told Meredeath she'd just laugh and tell me the pants weren't meant for sitting.

My beer was hoppy and spicy.

"You shouldn’t drink any more of that." An androgynous individual slid into the booth across from me. Couldn't a man just have a beer with his slug?

"And why not?" I asked, unimpressed with the person's claim. They had delicate features outlined by the makeup everyone else was wearing. A bull ring looped through their nostrils, and the poetic sliced eyebrow raised at my tone.

"Gimi, she dosed your beer with sweet water."

The room tilted. “What’s it do?”

“Loosens you up. Makes you less aware,” he said. She said? I couldn’t tell.

Honestly, both sounded… tempting. I reached for the mug. My hand danced in the lights.

They leaned forward, their vest split across a small but feminine chest covered by a sheer blouse.

She whispered conspiratorially, "I think it's what allowed her to take your slug."

My vision spun as I saw a smear of slime and the butt of a pepper. No Richard.

My stomach dropped through the cavern. “Richard?”