Survive

Peanuts and Hardly Mortal People

It was a golden morning. Warmth seeped through the apartment as the black-haired girl got out of bed fully dressed. Taking a moment to wake, she looked over the unkempt room, then over the clothes she wore. T was habit, after many years in war, to be ready whenever the time called. It was a habit that she had yet to break, and proven useful in the times since the bloodshed. With a glance at her messy room covered in maps and books, letters strewn across the floor with street posters stacked in chaotic ways, Eliseus recalled the rule added to the apartment residents after the incident with a fire salamander and trampoline.

No pets allowed.

Taking a breath, she dragged a brush through her coarse hair and looked over herself in the mirror as anxious anticipation welled up in her. She had chosen an old bomber jakcet, once famous among humans, over a brown t shirt and pair of olive green skinny jeans. This human form, she decided, was quite attractive. It would pay t play to those strengths. I would be eternity in this state, so it was for the best. Despite being ageless, she was relatively young for her species, and would not die for a long while yet. It was only natural.

Taking a moment longer, she brushed her blunt fingertips over her face. Up by her temples were ugly black scales, just a palm-size amount of them, spreading from her temple to the tip of her right eyebrow. Her left cheek had a couple, but they were smaller, and along her jawline they were dotted. Most people assumed these were the marking of a lamia, a mythical snake-like female that ate children. Over time their blood was muddled with the Angyls attempt at reanimating their forms, and so they looked now more like elves, or even humans, with obvious flaws.

It was decided unanimously that the six and a half foot tall female was naturally a lamia. With a sigh, the girl bent and yanked her sneakers on, tying them off and yawning.

Brushing off the collar of the jacket, Eliseus turned back to her room from the mirror she was looking in and stepped over the mess that was strewn across the floor.

Today is the day.

Opening the door, the black-haired girl stepped out into the short hallway that she and the woman she lived with shared. Pots were hanging from the ceiling, driving Eliseus to duck around them. Se tripped over a tendril creeping across the faded red and gold carpet, kicking it off with a crinkled nose as it caught at her sneaker. The plants that encompassed the house kept it shaded and cool, and the AC they had hanging out of a window pane was more than enough to keep the place comfortable. Lifting her head a bit, she noticed there was a sound of somebody bustling in the kitchen.

Ducking into the living room, where plants covered every single surface possible, Eliseus carefully picked her way into the kitchen, eyes grazing a large wooden table marked a melding pot of ingredients. Here was where she and the old wytch created potions and ingredients for sale at the Midnight Market, the parallel underground bazaar where information and less-than-welcome things could be sold.

At the table stood a short wytch, maybe four foot tall, on an enormous toad that served as a footstool as she bent over the cauldron, tossing in what looked like some sort of root. She was warm-faced, and despite her appetite for human flesh she could be kind, if not endearing. A dragonskin apron protected the clothes underneath. She turned to the mortar, before speaking as Eliseus approached.

"You will get me peanuts this morning," she bluntly stated.

"Such a ray of sunshine today, aren't you?" Eliseus poked at her with the statement, before taking a breath. Her pals were sweaty, though the joke ad certainly lifted her spirits a little bit.

"Could I ask you something?"

"That depends. If it is to fist fight our neighbor again, no," lamp-yellow eyes shifted to meet Eliseus's.