Katie Vack [Vack - Flawed Fracture

It was dirty inside the inn, due in part to the countless travellers that frequented it while passing through. Mud and dirt had been ground into the wooden floor. A thick layer of dust coated most surfaces, apart from the tables and chairs, upon which all manner of stains, scratches, and gouges had accumulated. The furniture itself was haphazard; its original appearance obscured by decade's worth of DIY repairs. There was a small fire by one wall above which an animal was spitted, but it was poorly ventilated and any who entered the inn would find themselves involuntary smokers. The food and drink were mediocre at best, and the few customers in the main room were as rugged and travel-beaten as any aristocrat could have nightmares about.

There were two men slumped at one table, squashed noses and scarred faces a testament to a life of fighting. At another a young man, red-faced from too much drink, was whispering empty promises to his sweetheart, while she did her best not to inhale too much of his breath. Around the fireplace sat a half dozen wanderers; disputes and differences set aside for the more interesting prospect of freshly cooked meat. A lone figure sat in the far corner, studiously avoiding the brightest of the light, an animal skin cloak wrapped up around him so that all that could be seen beneath his hood as he sipped at his drink was a shock of scraggly brown hair.

The inn was rough, and rugged, and more than a little ramshackle, but it was a pleasant enough place nonetheless. There was a sense of belonging, a kindred spirit flickering between those who would, were they in any other place, have been scorned and spat upon. There were no pointless rules for people to abide by, no cultural niceties to cling to. People could eat with their hands. They could spill their drinks across the floor. They could bring their animals inside, shout and laugh as loud as they wanted, and not have to worry about being kicked out for it. Weapons could be, were encouraged to be, taken inside. To put it simply, it was a haven for those who needed nothing more than a place to rest on their journey before setting off in the morning, without having to watch their step every second of the stay. It might have been dirty, and smelly, and dangerous, but it was also welcoming, homely, and non-judgemental. But of course, nothing pleasant could ever really last for very long, and so it was that the inn soon found itself with two more, rather less amicable, guests.

The idle chatter died away the moment the men walked through the door. They were aetherials, and aetherials didn't have the greatest of reputations around the other species'. They were arrogant, demanding, and snobbish, looking down on any others as though they were little more than slime. A lot of people put it down to their wings (because when you can soar among the clouds it stands to reason that you would look down on those who live their lives in the dirt) but whatever the case they were for the most part quietly despised behind their backs.

There was more to the matter than simply the race of the arrivals though: they were clad in the red, blue, and gold of the UA peacekeepers. In a rough area like this there was bound to be at least one petty criminal they might be seizing, and a dozen pairs of eyes followed their every move as they stepped into the room. The conversations died away, one by one, to leave a brittle and uneasy silence. If the two noticed it, or the undivided attention they were attracting, they showed no sign.

The innkeeper, a one eyed man with a hatchet slung on one hip and a sawn-off on the other, stopped wiping the tankards and frowned, an expression quickly replaced by a blank lack of emotion. He set down his grease smeared rag, wiping his hands on it, and walked over to them. While his face was blank, and his manner welcoming, there was a wary spark of caution in his eye as he greeted them.

"Evening, gentlemen," he drawled in heavily accented Basic Human. "What can I do for you today?"

If he had been hoping for anything resembling a civil answer, he would have been severely disappointed. "What a nasty place this is." The first aetherial sneered superiorly down his nose as he took in his surroundings.

The innkeeper frowned, a light frown which suggested the comment was no more than a little joke among friends and nothing to take offence at- getting on the wrong side of the Alliance was not a good idea, not for those who valued their freedom. "It's plain, I grant you, but we're a welcoming enough place for honest travellers."

The lead one, who appeared to be in charge, glanced around at the patrons with something between scorn and disgust. "I sincerely doubt these cretins are honest." He looked back at the innkeeper. "We need rooms for the night."

The innkeeper inclined his head, grateful that they had finally moved onto what he knew best. "Alright then, happy to serve, as always. Is there anything else you need? Food? Drink? I can offer either of them."

The aetherial frowned. "Nothing like that. We need somewhere to spend the night, nothing more. As if we'd risk our health with whatever substances you serve."

The man acted as though he had missed the second part of the comment. "You've come to the right place, then. I've got a nice room upstairs with a good view of the road. It's on the south, so you'll be able to catch the sun as-"

"I don't want a room," the aetherial cut him off abruptly, "I told you two. You don't seriously expect us to sleep together, do you?"

"Of course not, but you see well, I only have the one left. I can probably organise a second bed mind you, but it's still only the one room. Perhaps if you'd sent word in advance I could have arranged something more, but as we are all the other ones are taken. You have my apologies, but-"

"I don't want your apologies. I want two rooms, Alliance discount. And if you don't have enough spare, then you'd better empty another hadn't you?"

That got the attention of the other occupants. One by one they started rising to their feet, angry looks on their faces. Kicking other people out of the rooms they'd booked seemed to be crossing an invisible line. The innkeeper was visibly sweating by this stage, hands unconsciously creeping towards his holstered weapons. "I'm afraid that won't be possible. It goes directly against our policy."

The tension in the room was rising now, a palpable pressure building up. The first one leaned down so that he was at eye level with the man. "I couldn't possibly care any less about your stupid little policy. We've spent the last century working to turn this system into a better place, and that includes even this god-forsaken fragment. Every time you wake up in your bed, and there isn't something outside your window, that's because of us. Every time someone turns up on your doorstep, and they're more than a sack of shredded flesh, it's because of us. Every time your supplies arrive when they're supposed to, and they haven't been stolen along the way, it's because of us. So," he dropped his voice to little more than a whisper, "I will tell you this now. It's about damn time you started paying us back for what we do. If you refuse to clear me a room, I will do so myself- and trust me, my methods will be a lot messier than yours."

The innkeeper dropped all semblance of submission, his hands clenching around his weapons. "You obviously don't know who you're talking to. I've dealt with much tougher people than you two pretty-boys, and if you threaten me again I might just have to teach you some respect."

"Teach us respect?" The aetherial rise up to his full height, dwarfing the man once more. "If you really think you can do that, I might just have to kill you so nobody makes that mistake again." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I have half a mind to do so anyway."

"Hey." A hand appeared on his shoulder, interrupting his threats. Anger spread across his face; anger that someone might have the impudence to lay a hand one him. A question forming in his mouth, he straightened up and spun around- spun around right into the force of an incoming fist.