Riches to Rags (Ffraid)
Posted: August 11th, 2019, 10:25 pm
The more Toa learned about the world the more it became obvious that it was a living nightmare.
At first she’d been optimistic about life, mostly due to a belief that it could not possibly get any worse than waking up face down in a bank of mud, but the more time she spent traveling the more that outlook seemed terribly flawed. Often the terrors of life were small things that could be dealt with, like how sometimes it rained, but other revelations were so horrific that still struggled to fully comprehend them, like how sometimes it rained on her. In fact it was precisely this chilling reality that had led to her current predicament for if rain had been content to simply happen to other people she would not have been forced to seek shelter.
And to be honest that shouldn't have been so bad. Sure, she didn’t relish the idea of letting others know she was not impervious to rain but she was still confident that her winning charm, incredible wit, astonishing intelligence, natural charisma, devastating good looks and general superiority would allow her to solve the problem with relative ease. Unfortunately things were not progressing as planned.
“I have to pay you money?”
Admittedly the innkeeper had not said this, in fact he had said nothing at all, however pointing at a wooden sign with pictures of coins seemed to suggest as much.
“Why would you want money? What are you going to buy? Do you even eat? Do you buy clothing? Aren’t you dead?” she continued, sounding more incredulous with every word spoken.
The spirit made no reply, it’s finger still pointing at the sign. In previous disputes Toa had found staring intently at the other person until they relented to be a tremendously effective tactic however as she didn’t feel she could wait the requisite one hundred years that it would take the spirit to blink she decided against it. Instead, after one minute of stony silence, she gave a pained sigh as she grabbed a handful of coins from the pouch on her waist and dropped them on the counter.
“There, money.” said Toa acidly “Now can you please give me a room. A room I hasten to add that you have no personal use for because you’re dead and so the fact you’re trying to sell them to people who do need them is very predatory and you should feel bad about it which you won’t because you’re dead and don’t have the capacity to feel because you’re dead.”
If the spirit had been affected by Toa’s scathing diatribe he had hid it well by silently removing a key from a drawer beneath the counter and sliding it towards her while she spoke. Toa snatched the key off the table, gave the spirit one last sneer and then stalked off defiantly. Admittedly this defiance was somewhat undercut when she failed to open several doors on the ground floor but once the spirit indicated that her room was up the stairs she felt her ascension of them was at least “sassy”.
Eventually, after several more attempts, she finally managed to find a lock the key at least fit inside. She had to hunker down for a moment to try and persuade the key to actually turn but after a brief struggle the lock clicked and the door swung slowly inwards. Taking a moment to breathe a brief sigh of relief Toa quickly rose to her feet to enter the room. That was when it hit her.
“Argh!” she shrieked as she stumbled forward into the room, grabbing her head where it had smashed into the door lintel.
It was not the first time that Toa had been the victim of architecture designed for lesser beings and it would almost certainly not be the last. She stumbled blindly into the room, her eyes shut tight in pain as she muttered a few choice curse words under her breathe. Toa was tired, damp and injured and yet as she groped for something to catch hold of to steady herself one thought managed to rise above the splitting headache she was now experiencing.
At least things couldn’t possible get any worse.
At first she’d been optimistic about life, mostly due to a belief that it could not possibly get any worse than waking up face down in a bank of mud, but the more time she spent traveling the more that outlook seemed terribly flawed. Often the terrors of life were small things that could be dealt with, like how sometimes it rained, but other revelations were so horrific that still struggled to fully comprehend them, like how sometimes it rained on her. In fact it was precisely this chilling reality that had led to her current predicament for if rain had been content to simply happen to other people she would not have been forced to seek shelter.
And to be honest that shouldn't have been so bad. Sure, she didn’t relish the idea of letting others know she was not impervious to rain but she was still confident that her winning charm, incredible wit, astonishing intelligence, natural charisma, devastating good looks and general superiority would allow her to solve the problem with relative ease. Unfortunately things were not progressing as planned.
“I have to pay you money?”
Admittedly the innkeeper had not said this, in fact he had said nothing at all, however pointing at a wooden sign with pictures of coins seemed to suggest as much.
“Why would you want money? What are you going to buy? Do you even eat? Do you buy clothing? Aren’t you dead?” she continued, sounding more incredulous with every word spoken.
The spirit made no reply, it’s finger still pointing at the sign. In previous disputes Toa had found staring intently at the other person until they relented to be a tremendously effective tactic however as she didn’t feel she could wait the requisite one hundred years that it would take the spirit to blink she decided against it. Instead, after one minute of stony silence, she gave a pained sigh as she grabbed a handful of coins from the pouch on her waist and dropped them on the counter.
“There, money.” said Toa acidly “Now can you please give me a room. A room I hasten to add that you have no personal use for because you’re dead and so the fact you’re trying to sell them to people who do need them is very predatory and you should feel bad about it which you won’t because you’re dead and don’t have the capacity to feel because you’re dead.”
If the spirit had been affected by Toa’s scathing diatribe he had hid it well by silently removing a key from a drawer beneath the counter and sliding it towards her while she spoke. Toa snatched the key off the table, gave the spirit one last sneer and then stalked off defiantly. Admittedly this defiance was somewhat undercut when she failed to open several doors on the ground floor but once the spirit indicated that her room was up the stairs she felt her ascension of them was at least “sassy”.
Eventually, after several more attempts, she finally managed to find a lock the key at least fit inside. She had to hunker down for a moment to try and persuade the key to actually turn but after a brief struggle the lock clicked and the door swung slowly inwards. Taking a moment to breathe a brief sigh of relief Toa quickly rose to her feet to enter the room. That was when it hit her.
“Argh!” she shrieked as she stumbled forward into the room, grabbing her head where it had smashed into the door lintel.
It was not the first time that Toa had been the victim of architecture designed for lesser beings and it would almost certainly not be the last. She stumbled blindly into the room, her eyes shut tight in pain as she muttered a few choice curse words under her breathe. Toa was tired, damp and injured and yet as she groped for something to catch hold of to steady herself one thought managed to rise above the splitting headache she was now experiencing.
At least things couldn’t possible get any worse.