Associated Press Newswire
May 27, 1996, 4:00pm
Written by John H. Wright
QUEENS—Traffic on Jamaica Avenue was halted earlier today when a Ford Crown Victoria was struck at the corner of Jamaica and Hollis. Eyewitnesses say they saw a gray van with no tags strike the Crown Vic at full speed, forcing the car into oncoming traffic. The car struck a tractor trailer and flipped several times before landing by the side of the road on its roof. Witnesses say they saw someone thrown from the car, but couldn’t pinpoint where the body might lay. Detectives investigating the scene say that they only saw one person in the car, a survivor named Vincent Tutulio, who had to be restrained after being pulled from the wreckage. This reporter heard him repeatedly cry for someone called CeeCee, who we later confirmed was the nickname of the infamous Galicia Malina Valencia Rinaldi, unofficial head of the Rinaldi crime syndicate, and daughter of the late kingpin Maury Rinaldi.
Rinaldi is currently wanted on a number of warrants, including racketeering, extortion, and conspiracy to commit murder. However, it does not appear likely that if she were in the car with Tutulio, that she would have survived. It is enough of a miracle that Tutulio did not receive more serious injuries. As of now, a body has not been found. Vincent Tutulio is in police custody for questioning, but is not considered a suspect in what may become the murder of Galicia Rinaldi. END
The Lady Of The House
Moderator: Cassius Gaius Maximius
-
CeeCee Rinaldi
- Adventurer
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Thu Jul 08, 2004 12:09 pm
- Location: Palazzo di Argento, Southwest RhyDin
-
CeeCee Rinaldi
- Adventurer
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Thu Jul 08, 2004 12:09 pm
- Location: Palazzo di Argento, Southwest RhyDin
Good Morning, RhyDin...
Day 1.
She could feel wind blowing across her body and past her ears, so she must be outside. Her eyelids shone orange with the light behind them, so she knew it was daylight before she opened them. What troubled her was that there seemed to be grass beneath her hands and the scent of farm animals in her nose, neither of which indicated that she was anywhere near a hospital, her car headed home, or already in her bed. She knew, without reaching out, that Nicky was nowhere to be found. And the voices… she couldn’t place the accents she heard anywhere in her known experience. Scottish, she thought she heard, then it turned into a pseudo-Irish dialect, then some other thickly spoken speech that could have only arisen from a J.R.R. Tolkien book. She suddenly wished for sleep to take her once more, to delay her from dealing with the fact that she wasn’t in Queens anymore.
But CeeCee Rinaldi isn’t built that way.
Pale green eyes opened to the startlingly blue RhyDin sky, a shade that Technicolor, in all its futuristic expertise, would never be able to match if it would. No skyscrapers marred her view, the clouds making their stroll across her vision leisurely and untouched. The air was sweeter than she ever remembered New York’s to be, missing the endearing scents of hotdogs and hot coffee, but blessedly missing the smoke and fumes of internal combustion vehicles. She laid there for a moment, forgetting her fears and the unfamiliarity of the surroundings, feeling more at peace in these few moments than she had, it seemed, in her entire life. She realized that she felt no pain, and the grass, though unfamiliar and unsettling, was a comfortable bed from which to watch this amazing sky, which seemed devoid of the lines made by jets as they passed, never familiar with fire or storm, always offering this welcoming openness that she never remembered giving or receiving herself.
A whisper: “She’s awake.”
Another: “No she’s not, her eyes are just open.”
“That would count as awake.”
“Nuh-uh. I hear that mercs can sleep with their eyes open.”
“Well, that means that you ‘ave to make sure she’s asleep.”
A horrified gasp: “Why does it mean that?”
“Cause I said so.”
Cee could hear a good amount of tussling, the grunts of the two speakers betraying the force they used on each other in trying to force someone to approach her. She didn’t move, thinking them children, but she wanted to make sure that they were before she betrayed her seeming sleep by turning to see them. She got all her blinking in, so that when the youthful face came into her vision, she was able to keep her blank stare without issue. It was when he kicked her that she sprang to life.
She was still wearing her suit and trenchcoat, the latter billowing about her as she jumped to her feet, the dagger she kept in a thigh sheath at her stocking line pointed at him. Her ribs ached from the kick she received, more than she thought it should, until she realized that the boy she held at bay with her blade was, well… only half that. The lower half of his body was that of a calf or small horse, his fur tawny brown and of a velvet texture, his hooved feet twitching nervously against the grass. This sight was fleeting, however, as the boy took off across the field, between two buildings and toward what seemed to be a street beyond them, his companion closely behind. This sight was a wonder, as she could see horse-drawn carriages, chariots, and futuristic rocket cars sharing the road with regular cars and trucks that she recognized from her own world. She moved towards them in awe, craving to see more. The centaur children split from each other once they reached the street, so she couldn’t see them, but what she did see was far more fascinating to her eye.
Tall, ethereally beautiful men and women with pointed ears and flowing robes. Short, muscular, ambling men and women carrying axes and dirks. People she recognized as human, but bearing genetic characteristics foreign to her experience—silver hair, vivid red, violet, and yellow-orange eyes, and not a single person displeasing to her sight. All were stunningly beautiful in their own way, even the tow-headed centaur boy and his ginger-haired friend.
Galicia couldn’t fathom this. Not only was this not New York, it was no other place that she could even begin to compare to her memory of her world. This was, indeed, not her world. She turned back to look at the field from which she came, which bore no evidence of her arrival or her presence, and realized that there was a chance that she wouldn’t be able to return, either. She couldn’t doubt the reality of this place, though—the pain in her ribs where she’d been kicked was very real, the ache redoubling on itself with every step she took. Her stomach grumbled, and almost as if she’d conjured it, she saw the Red Dragon Inn and Tavern, and directed her steps that way.
She could feel wind blowing across her body and past her ears, so she must be outside. Her eyelids shone orange with the light behind them, so she knew it was daylight before she opened them. What troubled her was that there seemed to be grass beneath her hands and the scent of farm animals in her nose, neither of which indicated that she was anywhere near a hospital, her car headed home, or already in her bed. She knew, without reaching out, that Nicky was nowhere to be found. And the voices… she couldn’t place the accents she heard anywhere in her known experience. Scottish, she thought she heard, then it turned into a pseudo-Irish dialect, then some other thickly spoken speech that could have only arisen from a J.R.R. Tolkien book. She suddenly wished for sleep to take her once more, to delay her from dealing with the fact that she wasn’t in Queens anymore.
But CeeCee Rinaldi isn’t built that way.
Pale green eyes opened to the startlingly blue RhyDin sky, a shade that Technicolor, in all its futuristic expertise, would never be able to match if it would. No skyscrapers marred her view, the clouds making their stroll across her vision leisurely and untouched. The air was sweeter than she ever remembered New York’s to be, missing the endearing scents of hotdogs and hot coffee, but blessedly missing the smoke and fumes of internal combustion vehicles. She laid there for a moment, forgetting her fears and the unfamiliarity of the surroundings, feeling more at peace in these few moments than she had, it seemed, in her entire life. She realized that she felt no pain, and the grass, though unfamiliar and unsettling, was a comfortable bed from which to watch this amazing sky, which seemed devoid of the lines made by jets as they passed, never familiar with fire or storm, always offering this welcoming openness that she never remembered giving or receiving herself.
A whisper: “She’s awake.”
Another: “No she’s not, her eyes are just open.”
“That would count as awake.”
“Nuh-uh. I hear that mercs can sleep with their eyes open.”
“Well, that means that you ‘ave to make sure she’s asleep.”
A horrified gasp: “Why does it mean that?”
“Cause I said so.”
Cee could hear a good amount of tussling, the grunts of the two speakers betraying the force they used on each other in trying to force someone to approach her. She didn’t move, thinking them children, but she wanted to make sure that they were before she betrayed her seeming sleep by turning to see them. She got all her blinking in, so that when the youthful face came into her vision, she was able to keep her blank stare without issue. It was when he kicked her that she sprang to life.
She was still wearing her suit and trenchcoat, the latter billowing about her as she jumped to her feet, the dagger she kept in a thigh sheath at her stocking line pointed at him. Her ribs ached from the kick she received, more than she thought it should, until she realized that the boy she held at bay with her blade was, well… only half that. The lower half of his body was that of a calf or small horse, his fur tawny brown and of a velvet texture, his hooved feet twitching nervously against the grass. This sight was fleeting, however, as the boy took off across the field, between two buildings and toward what seemed to be a street beyond them, his companion closely behind. This sight was a wonder, as she could see horse-drawn carriages, chariots, and futuristic rocket cars sharing the road with regular cars and trucks that she recognized from her own world. She moved towards them in awe, craving to see more. The centaur children split from each other once they reached the street, so she couldn’t see them, but what she did see was far more fascinating to her eye.
Tall, ethereally beautiful men and women with pointed ears and flowing robes. Short, muscular, ambling men and women carrying axes and dirks. People she recognized as human, but bearing genetic characteristics foreign to her experience—silver hair, vivid red, violet, and yellow-orange eyes, and not a single person displeasing to her sight. All were stunningly beautiful in their own way, even the tow-headed centaur boy and his ginger-haired friend.
Galicia couldn’t fathom this. Not only was this not New York, it was no other place that she could even begin to compare to her memory of her world. This was, indeed, not her world. She turned back to look at the field from which she came, which bore no evidence of her arrival or her presence, and realized that there was a chance that she wouldn’t be able to return, either. She couldn’t doubt the reality of this place, though—the pain in her ribs where she’d been kicked was very real, the ache redoubling on itself with every step she took. Her stomach grumbled, and almost as if she’d conjured it, she saw the Red Dragon Inn and Tavern, and directed her steps that way.
-
CeeCee Rinaldi
- Adventurer
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Thu Jul 08, 2004 12:09 pm
- Location: Palazzo di Argento, Southwest RhyDin
Getting settled...
Day 1 (continued)
She moved into the crowded tavern, a cacophony of noise the likes she’d never heard and instantly disliked. There was no reception desk—no employees at all, it seemed—except for a number of bartenders who seemed to operate counter to and in repetition of each other, all serving a prettier woman several times over, while one who was thought to be less pretty went drinkless. Galicia waited for a long while for their attention, which it seemed like she didn’t merit, before reaching over the bar and tugging the shirt of a stunning brunette man, whose brown eyes had the playful lack of focus of the very, very young.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but is this where you secure a room?”
“To th’ office,” he said, his voice thick with drink. He promptly turned his attention to the girl blessed with the multiple drinks, Galicia and her query forgotten completely. She pushed off the bar, skillfully making her way through the crowd in the direction in which he pointed. She’d barely stepped in when the silver-blonde girl at the desk, without even looking up, said:
“Galicia Rinaldi. Take Room 203, up the stairs and to your left. Pay when you can.” She tossed a set of keys to CeeCee, and waved her off. “Oh, and watch for the ball.”
Completely dumbstruck, Cee opened her mouth again, to which the girl replied:
“Psychic telepath. Go on now, you ‘ave an appointment to keep.”
More confused than she’s been in her entire life, she headed up the stairs slowly, looking at the key to her room, and trying to understand just what happened in the past few minutes. In fact, she concentrated so hard that she didn’t see the ball she was warned about, and twisted her ankle tripping over it on the landing.
“Watch out for the ball,” she grumbled, finally remembering the warning the girl gave her, making her way to her feet and heading towards the room.
The room was clean and tidy, a fresh smell rising off the sheets and curtains, the shower beckoning to Galicia. A small red envelope laying on the bed beckoned to her, reading:
BEFORE YOU SHOWER—OPEN AND READ
She turned towards the door and the window overlooking the tavern, the uneasiness of her earlier trip threatening to choke her as she reached for the envelope haltingly. There was what appeared to be a flyer there, advertising the RDI Outback’s MegaBrawl, and a short, hand written note:
Galicia Malina Valencia Rinaldi,
you are cordially invited to witness this cycle’s Duel of Fists MegaBrawl.
Please be at the Outback at 9pm by the Eastern clock tonight to claim your seat.
Fight hard. Hurt good.
A glance at the clock indicated that she had very little time to make her way to the Outback, but before this whirlwind of predetermination and destiny whirled her away, she was determined to be clean. After all,
“I can’t go anywhere I was cordially invited to smelling like pasture,” she murmured to herself, as she stripped and went to the shower.
She moved into the crowded tavern, a cacophony of noise the likes she’d never heard and instantly disliked. There was no reception desk—no employees at all, it seemed—except for a number of bartenders who seemed to operate counter to and in repetition of each other, all serving a prettier woman several times over, while one who was thought to be less pretty went drinkless. Galicia waited for a long while for their attention, which it seemed like she didn’t merit, before reaching over the bar and tugging the shirt of a stunning brunette man, whose brown eyes had the playful lack of focus of the very, very young.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but is this where you secure a room?”
“To th’ office,” he said, his voice thick with drink. He promptly turned his attention to the girl blessed with the multiple drinks, Galicia and her query forgotten completely. She pushed off the bar, skillfully making her way through the crowd in the direction in which he pointed. She’d barely stepped in when the silver-blonde girl at the desk, without even looking up, said:
“Galicia Rinaldi. Take Room 203, up the stairs and to your left. Pay when you can.” She tossed a set of keys to CeeCee, and waved her off. “Oh, and watch for the ball.”
Completely dumbstruck, Cee opened her mouth again, to which the girl replied:
“Psychic telepath. Go on now, you ‘ave an appointment to keep.”
More confused than she’s been in her entire life, she headed up the stairs slowly, looking at the key to her room, and trying to understand just what happened in the past few minutes. In fact, she concentrated so hard that she didn’t see the ball she was warned about, and twisted her ankle tripping over it on the landing.
“Watch out for the ball,” she grumbled, finally remembering the warning the girl gave her, making her way to her feet and heading towards the room.
The room was clean and tidy, a fresh smell rising off the sheets and curtains, the shower beckoning to Galicia. A small red envelope laying on the bed beckoned to her, reading:
BEFORE YOU SHOWER—OPEN AND READ
She turned towards the door and the window overlooking the tavern, the uneasiness of her earlier trip threatening to choke her as she reached for the envelope haltingly. There was what appeared to be a flyer there, advertising the RDI Outback’s MegaBrawl, and a short, hand written note:
Galicia Malina Valencia Rinaldi,
you are cordially invited to witness this cycle’s Duel of Fists MegaBrawl.
Please be at the Outback at 9pm by the Eastern clock tonight to claim your seat.
Fight hard. Hurt good.
A glance at the clock indicated that she had very little time to make her way to the Outback, but before this whirlwind of predetermination and destiny whirled her away, she was determined to be clean. After all,
“I can’t go anywhere I was cordially invited to smelling like pasture,” she murmured to herself, as she stripped and went to the shower.
-
CeeCee Rinaldi
- Adventurer
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Thu Jul 08, 2004 12:09 pm
- Location: Palazzo di Argento, Southwest RhyDin
Stepping out...
Day 1 (continued)
She returned from the shower refreshed and in a better mood than she’d had all year, walking into the room. She paused slightly, realizing that she only had the suit and trenchcoat in which she arrived to wear, and immediately searched for a way to freshen it, looking around the room for at least some perfume. Finding nothing, she sat on the bed, looking at the invitation once more.
“Don’t think I’ll be going then,” she said softly, running a hand through the wild layers and sitting down, trying to reconcile the memories of driving with Vinny one moment, and the centaur boys, the telepath downstairs, and this invitation from someone she didn’t know, but who obviously knew her, in the next. And knew her well, from the use of her middle names. She turned to her suit, moving to the nearby closet to retrieve a hanger from the closet, tumbling to the ground and scrambling back in horror.
The closet was full of clothes, the blouses and skirts almost identical to her closet at home. In fact, the shoes alone were identical, her stiletto heels in pristine condition. She sat there shocked for a long moment, allowing the fear to grip her for just a little while before she moved back to her feet. She moved cautiously towards the closet, her hand seeking out one suit that looked identical to the one she arrived in, and sure enough, it was. Pinstriped, short skirt, form-fitting blazer, bright white shirt. The accompanying trenchcoat hung just to the right, and the knee-high stiletto heeled boots that Nicky once called her “hunting boots” were just below, as if it had been set aside for her. She heard the clock buzz the hour, and quickly dressed.
She took a moment to examine herself in the mirror, almost feeling like her old self again. She tied her hair up in a bun, the diamond studs on her earlobes shining against her olive skin and accentuating her pale green eyes.
“Well, looks like we’re ready to see what this is all about,” she murmured to herself as she gathered her room key and stepped out of the door.
She returned from the shower refreshed and in a better mood than she’d had all year, walking into the room. She paused slightly, realizing that she only had the suit and trenchcoat in which she arrived to wear, and immediately searched for a way to freshen it, looking around the room for at least some perfume. Finding nothing, she sat on the bed, looking at the invitation once more.
“Don’t think I’ll be going then,” she said softly, running a hand through the wild layers and sitting down, trying to reconcile the memories of driving with Vinny one moment, and the centaur boys, the telepath downstairs, and this invitation from someone she didn’t know, but who obviously knew her, in the next. And knew her well, from the use of her middle names. She turned to her suit, moving to the nearby closet to retrieve a hanger from the closet, tumbling to the ground and scrambling back in horror.
The closet was full of clothes, the blouses and skirts almost identical to her closet at home. In fact, the shoes alone were identical, her stiletto heels in pristine condition. She sat there shocked for a long moment, allowing the fear to grip her for just a little while before she moved back to her feet. She moved cautiously towards the closet, her hand seeking out one suit that looked identical to the one she arrived in, and sure enough, it was. Pinstriped, short skirt, form-fitting blazer, bright white shirt. The accompanying trenchcoat hung just to the right, and the knee-high stiletto heeled boots that Nicky once called her “hunting boots” were just below, as if it had been set aside for her. She heard the clock buzz the hour, and quickly dressed.
She took a moment to examine herself in the mirror, almost feeling like her old self again. She tied her hair up in a bun, the diamond studs on her earlobes shining against her olive skin and accentuating her pale green eyes.
“Well, looks like we’re ready to see what this is all about,” she murmured to herself as she gathered her room key and stepped out of the door.
-
CeeCee Rinaldi
- Adventurer
- Posts: 20
- Joined: Thu Jul 08, 2004 12:09 pm
- Location: Palazzo di Argento, Southwest RhyDin
Destiny...
Day 1 (continued)
She found the place just a few steps from the rear door of the Red Dragon Inn, making her way gingerly through the hustle and bustle of that lobby once more. The Outback loomed before her, its doors heavy as she pushed her way through.
Galicia marveled at the expanse of the area, the curved roof beams, the large bar, the larger Fern and the selection of rings. She moved in cautiously, the click of her heels drowned in the sounds of the people there. The diversity of life she saw from the field earlier was repeated and magnified here, as she saw elves, humans, orcs, gnomes, and other forms of life she hadn’t even heard about, let alone had experience with. She’d never been one of those delicate, useless women, whose equilibrium was so fragile that she falters at the slightest change to her environment, but still, she had to lean against the door jamb for a quick moment, just to get her bearings. She imagined that her sudden weakness was a result of the accident and whatever changes this world was making in her, rather than how strange the people were to her. Still, she was invited, so someone, human or no, wanted her here for some reason.
Slowly she stepped into the Outback proper, pale green eyes looking about for the person who might have invited her. Unlike the Inn, no one here seemed to recognize her or even acknowledge that she existed at all, and she felt instantly foolish and naïve for expecting it to be so. After all, didn’t she spend most of her life on Earth avoiding attention?
She didn’t think she would get anywhere near that answer if she sat at a table alone, so she made her way to the bar, where she took a seat quietly. There didn’t seem to be a bartender, so she sat there, her gaze resting on what seemed to be a very well-built humanoid panther with a mug of ale in his hand. She must have watched him long enough to be impolite, because he turned, his ears flicking in her direction as if he could hear her thoughts, offering a friendly, if sharp-toothed, grin and a lift of his mug to her. She grinned politely in response and averted her gaze, looking for a good place on the floor to look at.
But why should she do that? This was a magnificent place, even if she had no idea how she reached there, and for all intensive purposes, she had every right to exist here as everyone else, right? She looked up, only to find the were-panther behind the counter, smiling warmly at her.
“New here?” he asked casually, and she was so dumbstruck at the even, polished quality of the query, she just stared at him more, his voice a far cry from the rough, feral voices given to were-animals on Earth’s TV shows.
“Um, yes, yes I am,” she stammered, offering what she hoped was a replica of his casual grin, but knowing it just appeared like she was forcing herself not to jump off the stool and run screaming, because that’s exactly what she wanted to do.
“Want a drink?” he asked, already reaching for a glass, his hands (paws) moving with a casual grace that she hadn’t expected at all.
“Rum and Coke, please,” she said out of habit, becoming more and more comfortable, just treating him like she would anyone else back home. “Excuse me, is this where the MegaBrawl will be held?”
“Yep, you’re in the right place. This is the Outback, my name is Panther. You are?”
She paused, never being one to give out her name to anyone upon meeting them, then thought better of it. After all, she was talking to a were-panther in a world where there were psychic fairy telepaths and little blonde centaur boys who delivered rib kicks like soccer champs. Who here would fear or abhor the name Rinaldi?
“Galicia. Galicia Rinaldi. Most of the people I know call me CeeCee.”
“Ah. Well then, welcome to RhyDin, CeeCee Rinaldi,” he intoned, sliding her rum and Coke to her, a surprisingly strong and well-made drink that calmed her nerves considerably.
She turned towards the rings, where a large brown haired man announced the MegaBrawl participants, seeking one who recognized her and could explain why she was invited here. The word diversity was woefully inadequate to describe them, as she saw everything from an Egyptian slaver to a medieval warrioress to a round ball of… well, who knows, make their way to the ring. She was immediately fascinated, watching them play to the crowd, greet loved ones and others, then await the other opponents in the ring. She turned, wanting to ask Panther, but only paused, returning his friendly grin and sipping her drink.
Her gaze was drawn to a newly arrived contestant, a tall, dark haired and dark-eyed man who moved confidently towards the ring, his clothing she recognized as Latin, of the Roman Empire type of Latin. She watched him closely, having studied the classics and ancient Roman and Greek history, but to see an ancient Roman in real life? She couldn’t believe it.
“Panther?” she asked quietly.
“Yes?” he replied.
“Is that really a Roman there?”
He took a moment to look in the direction that Cee nodded (because it’s rude to point), and nodded. “Ah, yes. The one and only Cassius Gaius Maximius. Roman legionary, I think.”
“Legionary? Like soldier?”
“I guess that’s what it is. Can’t say I know all the things you Earthlings have terms for,” he said evenly, bringing the mug to his lips. CeeCee watched him move closely, olive skin over taut muscle, the insouciant grin showing flawless teeth beneath pitch-dark eyes and shoulder-length black hair. She was instantly intrigued, but thought it impolite to pant after every man she saw, particularly with Panther watching her so closely.
“Cassius Maximius, you say? Has he been here long?”
“At least as long as I have, and that’s long enough,” he said, following it up with a good-natured chuckle. “I can introduce you, if you like.”
“No, no, not at all,” she replied, immediately embarrassed that her interest in the man was so transparent. “After all, I am sure that he has a lady that already claims him zealously.” Panther only chuckled in response, motioning the man over.
“Cas, this is CeeCee Rinaldi. Cee, this is Cassius Maximius.”
“Nice to meet you, Cassius,” she said evenly, as calm and poised as she could have been under the laser gaze of those dark eyes. She nodded, a slight smile crossing her face as he brought her hand to his lips, planting a soft kiss there.
“CeeCee. Is that your birth name?” he asked ,as if he were familiar enough with her.
“Ah, no. Galicia. Galicia Rinaldi.”
“Galicia,” he said, as if tasting the word. “I think I would prefer to call you that. Would that be alright with you?”
Completely taken aback, yet fascinated, she smiled very slightly. “Of course. Please do. Good luck in your match.”
She brought her glass to her lips as he walked away with a nod, her pale green gaze following him.
“Interesting character, isn’t he?” said Panther.
“Fascinating,” she replied softly, as the Brawl began.
She found the place just a few steps from the rear door of the Red Dragon Inn, making her way gingerly through the hustle and bustle of that lobby once more. The Outback loomed before her, its doors heavy as she pushed her way through.
Galicia marveled at the expanse of the area, the curved roof beams, the large bar, the larger Fern and the selection of rings. She moved in cautiously, the click of her heels drowned in the sounds of the people there. The diversity of life she saw from the field earlier was repeated and magnified here, as she saw elves, humans, orcs, gnomes, and other forms of life she hadn’t even heard about, let alone had experience with. She’d never been one of those delicate, useless women, whose equilibrium was so fragile that she falters at the slightest change to her environment, but still, she had to lean against the door jamb for a quick moment, just to get her bearings. She imagined that her sudden weakness was a result of the accident and whatever changes this world was making in her, rather than how strange the people were to her. Still, she was invited, so someone, human or no, wanted her here for some reason.
Slowly she stepped into the Outback proper, pale green eyes looking about for the person who might have invited her. Unlike the Inn, no one here seemed to recognize her or even acknowledge that she existed at all, and she felt instantly foolish and naïve for expecting it to be so. After all, didn’t she spend most of her life on Earth avoiding attention?
She didn’t think she would get anywhere near that answer if she sat at a table alone, so she made her way to the bar, where she took a seat quietly. There didn’t seem to be a bartender, so she sat there, her gaze resting on what seemed to be a very well-built humanoid panther with a mug of ale in his hand. She must have watched him long enough to be impolite, because he turned, his ears flicking in her direction as if he could hear her thoughts, offering a friendly, if sharp-toothed, grin and a lift of his mug to her. She grinned politely in response and averted her gaze, looking for a good place on the floor to look at.
But why should she do that? This was a magnificent place, even if she had no idea how she reached there, and for all intensive purposes, she had every right to exist here as everyone else, right? She looked up, only to find the were-panther behind the counter, smiling warmly at her.
“New here?” he asked casually, and she was so dumbstruck at the even, polished quality of the query, she just stared at him more, his voice a far cry from the rough, feral voices given to were-animals on Earth’s TV shows.
“Um, yes, yes I am,” she stammered, offering what she hoped was a replica of his casual grin, but knowing it just appeared like she was forcing herself not to jump off the stool and run screaming, because that’s exactly what she wanted to do.
“Want a drink?” he asked, already reaching for a glass, his hands (paws) moving with a casual grace that she hadn’t expected at all.
“Rum and Coke, please,” she said out of habit, becoming more and more comfortable, just treating him like she would anyone else back home. “Excuse me, is this where the MegaBrawl will be held?”
“Yep, you’re in the right place. This is the Outback, my name is Panther. You are?”
She paused, never being one to give out her name to anyone upon meeting them, then thought better of it. After all, she was talking to a were-panther in a world where there were psychic fairy telepaths and little blonde centaur boys who delivered rib kicks like soccer champs. Who here would fear or abhor the name Rinaldi?
“Galicia. Galicia Rinaldi. Most of the people I know call me CeeCee.”
“Ah. Well then, welcome to RhyDin, CeeCee Rinaldi,” he intoned, sliding her rum and Coke to her, a surprisingly strong and well-made drink that calmed her nerves considerably.
She turned towards the rings, where a large brown haired man announced the MegaBrawl participants, seeking one who recognized her and could explain why she was invited here. The word diversity was woefully inadequate to describe them, as she saw everything from an Egyptian slaver to a medieval warrioress to a round ball of… well, who knows, make their way to the ring. She was immediately fascinated, watching them play to the crowd, greet loved ones and others, then await the other opponents in the ring. She turned, wanting to ask Panther, but only paused, returning his friendly grin and sipping her drink.
Her gaze was drawn to a newly arrived contestant, a tall, dark haired and dark-eyed man who moved confidently towards the ring, his clothing she recognized as Latin, of the Roman Empire type of Latin. She watched him closely, having studied the classics and ancient Roman and Greek history, but to see an ancient Roman in real life? She couldn’t believe it.
“Panther?” she asked quietly.
“Yes?” he replied.
“Is that really a Roman there?”
He took a moment to look in the direction that Cee nodded (because it’s rude to point), and nodded. “Ah, yes. The one and only Cassius Gaius Maximius. Roman legionary, I think.”
“Legionary? Like soldier?”
“I guess that’s what it is. Can’t say I know all the things you Earthlings have terms for,” he said evenly, bringing the mug to his lips. CeeCee watched him move closely, olive skin over taut muscle, the insouciant grin showing flawless teeth beneath pitch-dark eyes and shoulder-length black hair. She was instantly intrigued, but thought it impolite to pant after every man she saw, particularly with Panther watching her so closely.
“Cassius Maximius, you say? Has he been here long?”
“At least as long as I have, and that’s long enough,” he said, following it up with a good-natured chuckle. “I can introduce you, if you like.”
“No, no, not at all,” she replied, immediately embarrassed that her interest in the man was so transparent. “After all, I am sure that he has a lady that already claims him zealously.” Panther only chuckled in response, motioning the man over.
“Cas, this is CeeCee Rinaldi. Cee, this is Cassius Maximius.”
“Nice to meet you, Cassius,” she said evenly, as calm and poised as she could have been under the laser gaze of those dark eyes. She nodded, a slight smile crossing her face as he brought her hand to his lips, planting a soft kiss there.
“CeeCee. Is that your birth name?” he asked ,as if he were familiar enough with her.
“Ah, no. Galicia. Galicia Rinaldi.”
“Galicia,” he said, as if tasting the word. “I think I would prefer to call you that. Would that be alright with you?”
Completely taken aback, yet fascinated, she smiled very slightly. “Of course. Please do. Good luck in your match.”
She brought her glass to her lips as he walked away with a nod, her pale green gaze following him.
“Interesting character, isn’t he?” said Panther.
“Fascinating,” she replied softly, as the Brawl began.
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