The Broken Song

Chapter Seven

"Your sexual conquests don't count because you're done with them twenty seconds after you...do whatever gross things you probably get up to."

"Hey!" Lulu protested, a piece of bread half hanging out of her mouth. "Just because I like sex doesn't make me a sexual deviant."

At her words, a man at the next table leaned over and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Lulu took a long sip from her mug as the man continued to stare, his tongue snaking out from behind chapped lips that were dotted with bits of food. A few lewd gestures and Lulu leaned forward, her chin resting on the back of her hand.

"Do you have a vagina?" she asked. The man blinked, confused. "Then, I'm not interested. Also, you're absolutely disgusting. My father was a gigantic slut in his day, and I'm pretty sure even he wouldn't have touched you after sixteen kegs and a scalding bath for you."

"Oh," the man recoiled sharply. "You're one of those queers, who..." The words stopped abruptly, his face turning an alarming shade of red as he reached up to grasp at his throat. Lulu glanced over to her friend, who made no outward signs she was doing anything at all, but she knew the feeling of her friend's magic well. Idelle held the man by his throat with her magic, the grip tightening ever so slightly.

"I'm sorry," Idelle said sweetly. "Were you saying something?"

"I...said..." the man wheezed. "That you're...dis...gust...ing." She tightened her hold again. "Your kind...don't belong...here...ya QUEER!"

The word silenced the tavern. Lulu was surprised by the reaction. A pin dropping could have been heard in the wake of his shout, all eyes turning to where the man sat. Idelle released him immediately, the man coughing and hacking as he stood up and pointed at them.

"A bunch of queers! The white one would rather take another woman to bed than a man! I don't want to know what the brown one would do!"

"Oh, it's not just another woman," Lulu said proudly as she stood. "I'd fuck a cactus before you. Trust me. And, if anyone wants to have words or a fight over this incredibly ridiculous matter, then let's just get crackin' already."

A chair screeched across the floor. Lulu's hand reached for her sword, but the man that stood raised a hand, signaling he didn't wish to fight. Regardless, she kept her hand on the hilt as he made his way toward them. He was an absurdly large man. Nearly as tall as Uncle Baloren, he was all muscle, each one rippling even as he walked the short distance. His dark brown skin with warm red-orange undertones glowed with softness against the flickering of the fire crackling behind them, but his brow was set in a hard line, nostrils flaring out to make this hulking beast of a man look even more dangerous. He could probably kill everyone in the tavern with nothing but his ginormous hands. Instead of Lulu, it appeared his intent was to reach the other man instead.

"Ah, fuck, Martin," the Innkeep groaned behind the counter. "What am I gonna tell your sister?"

The huge man towered over the man named Martin, his shoulders squared to show his full height and girth. "So... You're sayin' you have a problem with people who sleep with and love members of their own gender?"

"It's gross. It's disgusting! It's..."

The other man shook his head and turned to point at the table near the far window. "You see that man, there? The one with the blonde hair, blue eyes, skinny as a rail, and that horrible excuse for a beard?" Martin nodded. "His name is Isaac Pimperknell, and I've loved him since that lanky motherfucker tried to save me from a pack of ghouls." He turned back to Martin and raised his fist. Lulu grimaced. It was the same size as Martin's head. "Still think it's a good idea to be homophobic, you piece of shit?"