Midday Madness

It's Just Madness 24/7

It had started as a simple game of cards, a couple drinks, maybe a bit of honest mocking. It wasn't Spijk's fault if some of these ruffians looked like they were part pig, he was only telling the truth and it was all in good fun anyways. Maybe they hadn't quite gotten the memo on that though because in the next moment their drunken jeering turned to angry shouts and accusations of "thief!" and "that cutpurse took my (insert something or another that Spijk couldn't care less about)!" 

Gods, that really riled him up when people called him names like that. He hadn't taken a damn thing, and if he had it wasn't anything they'd miss anyways, surely. Besides, if they didn't want to lose their things in a bar full of goodness knows who, they should have been more careful.

Still it was just his luck that Spijk had chosen that moment to step away for another round of drinks. From his place by the counter, he could see the previously amicable fellows swaying precariously as they rose from their seats, sweeping the crowded room for a glimpse of the so-called thief. Idiots. If they had been smarter, maybe they wouldn't have drank so much. Spijk doubted they could even pick out a dog from a group of chickens in the state they were in.

Giggling to himself at the thought, Spijk began weaving through the swarm of patrons, keeping his head low. Not like he really needed to though. Most of the people here already towered over him significantly. Staying hidden was easy. And slipping away without getting caught? Even easier.

"He's headed for the door! Someone stop that bastard!" a voice bellowed.

Okay, maybe it wasn't that easy, but it was pretty close.

"Cathar! Time to go!" Spijk shouted before bolting out the door and down the street.

Spijk ran as fast as his little feet could carry him, which wasn't very fast, but it suited his purposes well enough. Behind him he could hear the thrumming of footsteps, steadily approaching before Cathar's strong arms hoisted him up and slung him over her shoulder. Cathar kept running, long legs carrying them much farther than Spijk could have gone on his own. He sighed, resting his chin in his hand as he swung his legs.

"This is why we're friends," he said smiling.

Cathar huffed a laugh.

"You owe me big time. I was just about to score it with a hot elven chick," she panted, "And Spijk, if you kick me, I swear to the Gods..."

Behind them in the distance, Spijk could see the men chasing them. He waved energetically and shouted a very polite farewell, if there ever was one. As Cathar turned a corner, the men disappeared from sight still looking as angry and as ugly as before. It was a few more blocks until they reached the inn where they were staying and Cathar shrugged Spijk off her shoulder. Rude. He hit the thankfully dry ground with a thud before jumping back to his feet, smile still plastered on his face.

"Those were some nice guys, weren't they? Got a little disrespectful there at the end, but you can't blame them for not behaving the way their mothers taught them to. We all start silly fights from time to time when we've had one too many drinks," Spijk rambled as he brushed himself off.

Cathar watched him with one brow raised, her arms crossed sternly in front of her.

"You're taking pretty well to being called a cutpurse and a thief," she said, shifting her weight onto one leg.

Spijk straightened, anger and annoyance clouding over his face. He turned to look Cathar in the eyes as he fixed his topknot. After all, a neat topknot is quite important, don't ya know.

"I haven't a clue as to what they were going on about. I never stole a single thing from any of those buffoons," Spijk huffed, crossing his arms.

"Do you want me to check your pockets to verify that fact?" Cathar asked, squinting at Spijk.

Spijk squinted right back, letting a tense silence fall between them as they mentally battled out a winner of this impromptu staring contest. Cathar won, just like they always did. Spijk broke away with a dramatic sigh, giving an eye roll that seemed to move through his whole body.

"No..." he conceded, "I don't want you to check my pockets to verify the blah blah blah. Has anyone ever told you how unnerving your purples eyes are?"

"Uh-huh, that's what I thought," Cathar said. "Inside. We'll let Brita sort this all out. Don't try to change the subject."

Spijk groaned before trudging towards the door.

"You mean you'll let her have me for breakfast," he complained.

"Oh, absolutely if it means I'm not gonna get cockblocked every time I go out," Cathar smirked, casting a sideways glance at Spijk.

Spijk laughed as he made his way inside. Sure, he made friends everywhere he went, - the men in the bar had been his friends for a little while - but he was glad to have true friends by his side all the time.