Had a sudden urge to write this one. It's one of the big events of Reppy's past, referred to often but never fully described. Enjoy.
YC103.9.17
Tyrathlion Estates, Khanid Prime
To the eyes of twelve-year-old Repentence Saera Tyrathlion, the light was blinding.
On a rational level, she knew it was perfectly normal light, not even unnatural, just the normal light of the noonday sun. Her senses, however, insisted that someone was trying to vaporise her with seige lasers. Her skull also felt like it was about to explode, and her brain was irrationally linking the two into some kind of hideous torture technique. As if that were not enough, her tongue felt like it had been borrowed to clean a feral slaver hound. As a first experience of a hangover went, it was intense.
She was also filthy, and had more than a few bruises. Her left arm felt like it had nearly been wrenched out of its socket. Her clothing, which had been a gift for her birthday - the birthday she'd had yesterday - was so dirty and torn as to be beyond salvaging.
Under any other circumstances, or if she were any other girl, she'd have been the picture of misery. As it was...
"Pay attention!," her torturer barked. "Don't make me repeat myself, Repentence. Where were you?"
Repentence squinted up at her mother, and folded her arms with a smug look. "Having fun," she croaked. "Better than what you were offering."
"You left the estate in the middle of your own celebrations, without showing a shred of gratitude to us or the guests -"
"How long did it take until you noticed I was gone?" Reppy interrupted.
Vara Tyrathlion ignored her, continuing. "- or the guests, and you were found in this state, dumped outside the police station. You have insulted your family, you have insulted our friends, and you have insulted God with your evident debauchery and insolence."
"Any other family would have been worried about their daughter," Repentence replied, trying to force her vocal chords to work.
"Where were you?"
Repentence closed her eyes, remembering...
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Fourteen hours previously
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The Underground.
Repentence hovered on the border, wondering why it was named that. Officially, it was the poor quarter of the city, mostly the domain of ex-slaves and a few very poor Khanid unable to afford better living space. You could spot it a mile away, hardly 'underground'; the ramshackle buildings, the dirt, so very different from the pristine, perfect architecture elsewhere. There was an unspoken rule that people didn't cross between the worlds; this was slave territory, the place where those without masters were sent, and the place where those with masters that gave them time off escaped to to relax. They didn't interfere with the rest of the city or make it untidy, and the Khanid overlords let them do as they wish. It worked. It kept people content on both sides.
She glanced back, towards the clean city, and beyond the countryside and estate that she'd grown up on. All the rules and theology and etiquette and expectations that came with being the daughter of a Holder, even the youngest daughter. This was not the first time she'd stood here, wondering what the other side was like. Fraternising with the slaves was discouraged by her mother, and the head of household ruled the slaves with an iron fist that discouraged any from being near her.
She'd never dared do it before. It was generally agreed to be unsafe in the Underground - and definitely unsafe for a rich girl with Khanid blood all over her features. But there was a recklessness in her soul. Twelve years old. She didn't feel like a child any more. And if she walked away, went back home, to the unimaginably dull party and all the speeches about morality and God that would be thrown at her...
Deliberately, she stepped over the unmarked border, and vanished into the rabbit warren of streets and passageways.
She was aware of eyes watching her, but she tried to ignore them. They weren't hostile. Curious, neutral, perhaps a few aggressive... but none that made her feel scared. Or at least, no more scared. Her heart was pounding as she looked around the tall buildings, the quiet, shabby people.
Then she found herself standing in front of what was undoubtedly a tavern. She'd never seen anywhere that suited that word before, but this was what she'd imagined one would look like. The building looked something like a warehouse, and probably had been once upon a time. The entrance was a set of airlock doors, lined with enough devotional scripture and symbols that it had probably been salvaged from an Amarrian vessel. Above, in neon letters, was the name of the place: the Gilded Shackle.
Repentence did not believe in fate. But she did know that she'd come here to find something, and... maybe this was it. The airlock groaned as it opened, and then slammed shut behind her. As her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, she saw tables scattered around, people drinking and gambling, the aura of cheap liquor and dubious quality palpable. More Minmatar than she'd ever seen, though they were not alone, examples of all the major races to be found. There was one thing in common.
Every eye in the place had locked onto her.
Repentence froze. A dozen thoughts went through her mind and were abandoned. She could only stand like a furrier in a slaver's den as a figure slowly moved towards her.
The woman was solidly built, covered in tattoos. Not the biggest person here, but with such total confidence in her movements that there was no doubt she was in charge. Repentence counted half a dozen piercings before her brain gave out in horrified anticipation.
"You look lost, little girl," the woman growled. "Not a good place to be alone in."
Reppy nearly choked, and whispered something.
"What was that?"
The Khanid girl suddenly realised that there was a very sharp looking knife stuck through the Matari's belt. Despite this sudden additional spark of fear, she coughed, and spoke up, her voice thin but with hint of a tremor in it. "I said, at least it's not dull."
Dead silence.
The Matari turned around. "SAKI!" she barked. "C'mon, little slaver girl. You want something interesting?"
Reppy followed her, aware of the several dozen eyes still watching her. There was a table with two chairs ahead of them, one empty, and the other occupied by another Matari - this one, she realised, probably not much older than herself. A Gallentean who seemed to be missing an eye placed two full glasses on the table, and then retreated. Seeing no other option, she sat in the empty chair.
'Saki' eyed Repentence thoughtfully, then winked, picking up her glass.
Reppy lifted the other one, sniffed. The fumes alone made her head swim. She'd never drunk anything before... but here and now... she suddenly smiled faintly. Here and now, it was the game. Bracing herself, she slugged down all of the caustic liquid.
Her mouth and throat felt like they were on fire, and she couldn't hold back the coughing fit that made tears stream from her eyes, but she slammed the glass down, and looked up at the big woman expectantly.
A ripple of laughter echoed around the Gilded Shackle, and the woman nodded, as the rest of the clientele returned to their own drinks. "You'll be ok, kid," she said, patting Repentence's shoulder. "You've got guts, I'll say that. I'm Gasra..."
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"You went into the Underground, didn't you?" Vara thundered. "Of all the..."
Repentence rather unsteadily got to her feet, and just smirked. "It's a place where you and your precious religious clique don't have to see me. All the trouble I could wish for, and you can just forget. That's what you want, isn't it? I'm your own personal failure. So leave it, mother. Out of sight, out of mind... we'll both be happier that way."
She stalked off as Vara smouldered.
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Topic: Out of Sight, Out of Mind (Read 1216 times)