In this scene I send my elven assassin, Taliesin, on a blind date with the female embodiment of every romcom heroine cliche one can think of.
Blind Date
With a force reserved for popping off troll heads, the
kitchen airlock door slammed shut as a mopey elf dug through the cabinets
looking for anything to wash away the past two hours. His fingers lingered upon
a canister marked "Orn's Secret Stash! Do Not Open!" Tempting, but
the handwriting looked dangerously official and he moved on.
"Nice shirt, kill someone fancy?"
Taliesin flipped around, a blot of uncategorized
sauce falling onto his nice shirt staining the azure fabric. He didn't notice
the Dwarf squatting at the back table when he entered the kitchen, or --sweet
tree of life -- the captain sitting beside him, dropping some dice onto the
table with the flick of her wrist. The elf was immersed in such a frazzled
state he walked past two breathing organics without noting them. His old
instructors would have his head for that. And for missing class for the past
seventy four years.
"Meeting go badly?" Variel asked,
casting one eye up from her game to the elf.
"What makes you ask?"
Her head tilted towards the door, but she didn't
say more, letting her chips fall into a pile. It was Orn who took up the
thread, "Thought you were gonna send that thing straight through the ship
and onto the docking bay."
"Better than picking it up outside,"
Variel said.
"Yeah. You'd probably make me do it and I
hate wearing those oxygen suits."
"They weren't designed to hold the massive
storehouse of all things glucose that is your stomach."
