Interesting Times (Ulric)

[Ulric]

“Quit shoving, y’bastards!” Ulric shoved back, wisely, and found himself staring down the point of a dagger. Maybe it was poisoned as well. If so, he wasn’t eager to start a brawl. Not here at least. “All right, all right,” Ulric grumbled. If it came to the worst, he could always stuff his flute up the woman’s nose. Fortunately, she sheathed her blade and leveled a string of curses at him instead. “Ah, nothing like a saucy wench,” Ulric giggled to himself, and then frowned. “Wait, what happened to Sam? Oh, there you are.” Ulric pulled the lad up and helped him to the door. He was beginning to regret drinking so much. Not because he felt sick, but because he didn’t know what the petch was going on. All the swaying didn’t help, either. “Not long now, crumpet,” Ulric crooned as they stepped over the threshold. Wait – where were they going? And more importantly, why didn’t he think to get an ale for the road? Releasing his hold on Sam, Ulric tried to reenter the tavern and succeeded only in bumping into a would-be patron. “Petching son of a whore!” the woman cursed as she shoved Ulric to the side. Strange how these wenches were all burly, ill-tempered types. Ulric wasn’t going to stand for this. “Them’s fighting words!” he snarled and threw a wild punch. It missed, and in return he received a thunderous knee to the bollocks. “Guurrgh!” He sank to the cobbles and curled around the pain. Why didn’t women ever fight fair? “Sam," he managed to croak, “pull her hair!”

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Somehow when the clean air hit him, he was invigorated. There was no more question in his mind as to whether he would vomit or not. There would be no wasting of good ale. But now they were going back in for more? He turned as soon as Ulric did, only to watch some Jamoura of a woman shove his friend aside like a dandelion -- well, Ulric did actually seem to have some flower-like qualities, but it was probably just the funny way the light looked in his vaguely blurry vision -- and then Sam started seeing red. "Don'youhurtmyFRIEND!" he shouted as he bumrushed the woman. There was no style or grace to his brawling, merely drunken rage. Thankfully his sharp weapons were all back at the Stables, but he probably wouldn't have thought to draw them. He had been trained not to draw steel in anger, only to a rational purpose. Not that he was exactly rational right now. What he was right now was on the floor with a woman that not even all the ale in his veins could make flower-like -- not like lovely Ulric -- his limbs all tangled with hers. He flailed and shoved until he was free of her, and then tried to pull an acrobatic stunt, flipping to his feet. All he managed to do was hit his head on the floor. "Sonofamotherlessgoat!" he shouted, and looked about ready to cry.

[Ulric]

He’s my friend! Ulric might have grinned if he wasn’t so worried that he’d sustained a ruptured scrotum. He could just picture his stones slipping out the legs of his trousers and rolling into the gutter. Splash, splash, and that’d be that. No little Ulrics and Ulrikas to bounce on his knee. No… wait, they were still there. Ulric breathed a sigh of relief as he looked for Sam. Somehow the lad had managed to drag the burly woman to the floor, but he didn’t seem to be faring so well. She’s getting away! Ulric snarled and lunged forward, sinking his teeth into her calf. She screamed and kicked him in the face – hard. Ulric blinked away stars, but kept biting. He wasn’t going to give up that easily. Then someone else started kicking him, or perhaps it was a bunch of people. He wasn’t too sure. Curling into a ball, Ulric reached for his flute and stabbed down on a sandaled foot. A curse, and the kicks stopped. “Grraaaww,” Ulric moaned and squinted at Sam. “I don’t feel so good,” he tried to say, but it all came out wrong. What the shyke’s in my mouth? Ulric wondered, but he chewed and swallowed like a good boy. It reminded him of pork.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Defeated or not, Sam decided that a retreat was in order, so he crawled over to Ulric and tried to tug him toward the door. Clearly, this was no kind of a bar they wanted to patronize. "I don't speak Arumenic, Ulric," he drawled. "You're fat." He wasn't, but Sam was having trouble piloting him out. In fact, he was having trouble getting to his feet or urging Ulric toward action. It occurred to him that perhaps he should refrain from drinking so much, but then he assumed that was just some innate crazy talking and that he should pray for sanity later. It was then that he noticed the bright blood on Ulric's mouth, making him look a bit like one of those floozy trollops selling their stuff on the streets. "You gotta purdy mouth," he noticed aloud.

[Ulric]

“You’se not so bad yourself,” Ulric planted a bloody, slobbery kiss on the corner of Sam’s eye. His aim seemed to be going. Well, at least he hadn’t pissed himself. Now that would have been embarrassing. He didn’t understand why, but Sam seemed to be maneuvering him across the street. Ulric didn’t want to leave, though. He wanted to stay and find a couple of Konti, and then one of those Eypharian creatures with the six arms and have a tea party. But the tea wouldn’t be tea because the stuff was dangerous for your health. Oh, and he wanted a bunch of scholarly sorts to have a debate in the background and then get burned to a crisp by a reimancer in a magenta robe. Ulric was kind of hungry. “Fink it’s time for a song,” he mused. And then, loudly: There once was a lass named Karinaaaa! She was the loveliest lass of allll! And when she went to the market! She took a great big terrible fallll! “Come on, sing with me!” Ulric blew into his flute. Fweee!

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

At least between the lack of aim and the sudden burst of affection, Ulric had not pissed on Sam... He wasn't quite sure what was going on, but Ulric was there, and when Ulric was around, they managed to escape bears. So he was safe for the time being. But affection was affection, and Sam didn't get much of it from humans, so he teared up a bit as he tried to sing back up for Ulric's song, though he just came in late on everything trying to pretend he knew the lyrics. Clearly, they now had hetero-lifemates in each other. When the song was over, Sam said: "I love you, man." Then, embarrassed, red-faced, and teary-eyed, he added: "Lessing somemore."

[Ulric]

“I loves you too,” Ulric replied. He was touched by Sam’s words, but in a good way. Not at all like a knight putting his hand down a squire’s pants. If that was us, he mused, I’d be the knight. Wait, was Sam crying? “Now, now,” Ulric said in a matronly tone, “there’s nothing to cry about.” He tried to wipe the tears away, but succeeded only in poking his companion in the eye. Why was Sam moving around so much?

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"There's something in my eye," he explained, quite serious in tone and demeanor, but everything was a bit blurry. "Did I tell you I got a job at the Stables?" he asked. He wasn't sure. He couldn't really remember much beyond a few moments ago. There was something about Ulric trying to shove his flute up the bum of a burly woman, and something about Ulric and Sam declaring undying platonic love for each other, maybe.

[Ulric]

“Stables?” Ulric blinked. He’d forgotten that. If he possessed one complaint about Sam, it was that the lad consorted with such foul, demonic beasts. Even in his inebriated state, Ulric was able to conjure up a vivid reconstruction of the series of incidents that had left him mortally terrified of horses. A mangled ear, a kick in the head, a kick to the bollocks and later a near-crushing beneath the hooves of a stallion… all occasions were proof the beasts were out to get him. Suspicions aroused, Ulric’s eyes rolled as he peered through the darkness. Was this a trap? Sam had saved his life once, but could the lad now have designs upon it? Perhaps he now believed it was his to take. Well, it wasn’t. It was Ulric’s life, and he’d do what he damned well pleased. “You’re not my father!” he hollered at the top of his lungs. A few bystanders paused to stare at him. “Oh, sod off,” Ulric growled and brandished his flute. He might not have fared so well against the crowd of harpies, but – wait, was that the cadence of hooves upon the cobbles? Ulric froze. He could feel the adrenaline pulsing through his veins. ‘Fight or flight?’ a soft voice resounded in his head. Scant days ago he would have fled, but tonight he was a different man. It was time to face his demons. “You can’t handle the truth,” Ulric rambled as he planted a fierce kiss on Sam’s lips. As he broke away, a single tear flowed down his cheek. Then he was sprinting down the road, his teeth bared in a snarl. “Come on, beasts!” he bellowed. “I’ll kill the lot of you! Come out and face me!” Flute raised, he charged past a pair of dumbstruck knights and slammed into a stone wall. Ulric didn’t so much feel his nose break as hear it. And then he was sliding to the cobbles, a puzzled look in his eyes. Now who the hell put that there?

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Wait, was it even possible for him to be Ulric's father? The man looked older than Sam was, but he supposed if magic had been involved. Perhaps later on in life, Sam would be chosen by Tanroa and would go back in time to sire Ulric -- apparently he took after his mother. Perhaps Tanroa was his mother, making Sam the future consort of a goddess! "This is all moving too quickly!" he panted, wondering what he had done to inspire such an aloof goddess and hoping that he was up to the task sexually. How does one please a goddess. Wait, had Ulric just put his tongue in his mouth? This was a strange night, to be sure. And now he was trying to kill himself with a wall? "Sorry. M'sorry," he mumbled as he hurried quickly past the knights. He tried to get Ulric up without catching a flute in his eye. "C'mon, Ulric," he whispered. "I know a place we can hide!"