Character Creation
Chapter Two – Bestow Curse

      One of the great thrills in any role-playing game is to watch the development of a character. At their inception, some may have no more thought to their mindset than two letters at the top of the page. NG. CE. Maybe just a simple N. Others have back stories pages long, filled with tales of love and loss, heroism and cowardice, virtue and depravity.
      In the end, however, all such notions are in the past tense – a stilled image of the character we thought they’d be. It’s not until the actions begins, adversity strikes, power and opportunity coincide – those ominous words “When suddenly…!” from the mouth of the DM – when we learn who they are going to become.
      The character of a character is not determined by their capacity to slay dragons, but by what they do with its hoard.
      
      Not once did Chance Bourdain question his decision to pursue the thief into the alley – though this was only because he had too little time to reconsider. He’d been working the graveyard shift at the neighborhood Fast & EZ, and when he saw the hooded figure bolt out the door, pockets bulging with purloined goods, he reacted without thinking.
      The thief probably hadn’t counted on the night clerk being an all-state strong safety.
      As soon as he got a hand on their shoulder, her launched himself into a tackle, bowling the thief down and following her to the ground. He kept his weight on top of her – he wasn’t big, but he was realizing that she wasn’t either.
      In fact, it wasn’t until she rolled onto her back, eyes bulging in terror, struggling too weakly to possibly escape, that he realized it was a she at all, her hoodie and the cloak of night cooperating to conceal her appearance. Even now, the alley was too dim to make it out.
      Not far off, he heard police sirens – Hayley must have called the cops while he was chasing. She’d seen what direction he’d run, certainly; all he’d have to do was drag this young woman out to the street and they’d nab her. He’d be a hero. Then, as he hauled her up to her feet, keeping a good grip on her, he saw what had fallen out of her pockets. 
      It was baby food. Jars and jars of the cheap junk they sold at the store.
      “Please… please, I got kids to feed, please, take it all back – just don’t turn me in, please…”
      Chance released her. She staggered back a few feet, but having realized he could easily run her down, she didn’t try to flee. She was a pitiful creature, gaunt and grubby, a face that looked like it was fearful even when there was nothing to fear. Her lips murmured pleas silently, tears and snot dripping down her visage.
      He squatted down, his eyes watching to make sure she didn’t try to sneak attack him, and picked up the fallen jars. “Go,” he said quietly, offering them to her.
      A bright smile blossomed on her wan face. “Thank you, mister. I won’t forget this. Thank you, thank you,” she uttered fervently as she accepted his donation, then turned and fled from the other side of the alley.
      Chance walked her go, his heart lightening at his benevolent deed. He turned to head back to the store, and nearly bumped straight into a strange old man. He was dressed in a brightly colored robe and a hat that was out of a century long ago. “Well played, good sir, well played!”
      He took a step back. “Who are you? Are you… crazy?”
      The man chuckled, twisting his long moustaches. “Far from it! I am but a man who appreciates a mission of valor such as what I just witnessed. And to cap it off with an act of mercy such as that… truly, truly touching.”
      “Um, yeah. Thanks, I guess.” 
      “Bah! Gratitude is a paltry substitute for a genuine reward. As it so happens, for someone who has displayed such an inclination to follow his intuition, perhaps giving you opportunity to sit in judgment?”
      “Look, I don’t know what you’re on, but… I gotta get back to work. Be careful out here, man – this isn’t a great neighborhood.” 
      Chance walked on past the old-timer, who patted him on the shoulder affably as he did. “Indeed. I like to take a chance now and then?” He chuckled; Chance just hurried on without dwelling on his choice of words.
      The police were waiting back at the store. He told them he’d chased the person but they out-ran him, and he said he never got a good look. Chance felt uncomfortable lying to police, but they bought his story without probing too much; their response was mostly to point out what a stupid risk he’d taken, if the assailant had been armed or had back-up nearby, or even just falling and hurting himself sprinting along in the dark. 
      They couldn’t get ahold of the store’s owner, Margot Bramer, so they left a message and the police assured them they’d send someone by in the morning to take care of the rest of it. With that, they bid them a good night and left the two young people in peace.
      “Got out-run by some hood rat, eh? So much for Mr. Big-shot Track Star,” she said smugly.
      “First off, I was all-state football, not track. Second off, there’s no such thing as a ‘big-shot track star.’ Third off, up yours, Hayley.”
      She frowned. “I told you, call me Valkyrie.”
      “I’ve known you as Hayley since like sixth grade. Just because you woke up one day and decided you’re a freaking witch or wiccan or whatever doesn’t mean I’m going to play along. That’s a stupid name, and I’m not using it.”
      It was true. He’d actually had a crush on her forever ago, back in middle school; then she’d had light brown hair and freckles and been into the Backstreet Boys. Fast forward ten years and she’d bleached her skin white, colored her fingernails, toenails, lips, hair and makeup black, and liked My Chemical Romance. Even her nametag read “Valkyrie” – she’d said she was planning on having it legally changed before long. 
      She folded her arms beneath her ample breasts. “Margot said you have to respect my religious differences, Chance. Do I need to tell her you’re being intolerant again?”
      “Do I need to tell Margot that the store got robbed while you were sitting in the back room drinking a stolen slushie?”
      She glared at him. “Fuck you.”
      “Be my guest, Hayley. You know, with a little effort, you could be a real knock-out, you know? If you gave it a rest with all this ugly witch shit.”
      “I guess that makes me a bad witch,” she said.
      “Why’s that?”
      “Ugh, nevermind. This is why I’m going to get the promotion over you.” 
      
      
      
      Working the graveyard shift as he did, Chance didn’t wake up until mid-afternoon. When he did, though, he felt unusually peppy. He did his daily work-out with a spring in his step, some extra vigor in his muscles. He felt stronger. His cell phone rang more than once with work’s number on the phone, but he just ignored it, basking in the high. 
      Most of his day flew by in a hurry – basketball at the gym with some friends, then dinner and a few drinks after, then back to the Fast & EZ by midnight. Margot was waiting for him when he showed up; it was unusual for her to be here so late, but she was obviously pissed enough at being ignored all day that she wanted to confront him in person.
      “You’re three minutes late, Chance,” she began.
      He pulled out his phone to check the time. “My phone says 11:58,” he said, realizing even as he did it that he’d fallen for her trap.
      “Oh? So your phone does work, after all. Because I called you six times today, left messages, and never heard back from you.”
      “Sorry, I just–”
      “You know what? Save it. Val told me all about what happened. I suppose if my negligence had allowed someone to run off with over a hundred dollars of product, I’d be hesitant to explain too.”
      “Negligence?! I chased after her – it’s not my fault I couldn’t catch her!”
      “Her? I was told you didn’t get a good look.” The old woman scowled.
      “I didn’t – but they were small, kinda slender. I just assumed.”
      “Why don’t you leave the detective work to the police, OK Chance? Quite a night for you, wasn’t it. Not watching the store, letting someone – sorry, some girl – outrun you, then coming back here and picking on Val over her religion. Again. I thought I’d made myself clear on that point?”
      “You did, but–” 
      “But nothing. Then, after all that, you blow me off all day. Can you think of a single good reason why I shouldn’t fire you right here and now?” From behind the counter, he couldn’t miss his co-worker’s smug grin.
      “Fire me?! Running down thieves isn’t in my job description – you think nine bucks an hour covers chasing criminals? You should be promoting me to night manager, not talking about firing me!”
      He saw her unmoved expression, and backed down. The fight was lost. 
      “Look, I’m sorry about, um, Val, and I promise, that won’t happen again. And I’m sorry I didn’t answer the phone – I was asleep all day and forgot it at home all evening. Just… come on, I need this job.”
      She gave him a long look, one of those expressions that said she’d been bluffing but wanted to enjoy making him sweat for a bit yet. “All right,” she said finally. “But you’re on thin ice. As it is, I’ve promoted Val to night manager, since she at least seems to understand how to control herself and knows when to pick up a phone. That means she’s now in charge of your butt. Can you handle that?”
      “Yes, Mrs. Bramer.” He could feel how hard a time Hayley – sorry, Valkyrie – was having holding back peals of triumphant giggles.
      “All right then. I’m heading home – finally. Let’s try not to have another cluster fuck in here tonight, mkay?”
      To her credit, Val possessed the restraint to wait until Margot’s car had left the lot. “Man, I guess I pretty much own your ass now, don’t I Chancey?” she managed between laughs.
      “Blow me,” he retorted. Then, without quite knowing how or why he did it, the words combined with an idea combined with a feeling combined with a power he’d gained from heaven alone knew where. “Unymai, halaemadu’rus!” His index finger glowed red, and he pushed it to her lips; she was too shocked to say anything.
      Hayley’s smile evaporated. She shuddered a moment, then glared at him, sputtering and wiping at her lips. “What the fuck was that, you asshole?!”
      Somehow, he instinctively knew what he’d done. Or what he’d meant to do – actually doing it would be insane, impossible.  Only… that glow! Could something have actually happened? “Answer me, jock douchebag prick!”
      “I… I think I cursed you.” It sounded even dumber out loud than it did in his head.
      “Oh, ha ha, very funny. You got chewed out for making fun of Wicca what, two minutes ago? And now you’re already looking to get fired for doing it again with that little laser pointer trick you pulled? Or however you did it.”
      “Look, Valkyrie, I’m not making fun. You think you witches have the market cornered on curses?”
      “You just don’t quit, do you? All right, I’ll bite, so what’s your big scary curse supposed to do? Shave forty points off my IQ so I can try out for the football team?”
      “Just you wait and see,” he said. Mostly because he had very little faith in it working. Still, something had happened. Hadn’t it?
      “Suit yourself. Just… don’t fucking touch me again, or I’ll fire your ass on the spot. Now, I got a laundry list of shit that needs doing, junior employee, so let’s put those big strong jock muscles to use.”
      Chance got to work. Inventory, re-stocking shelves, unloading a delivery truck, servicing the few customers who straggled in – it was enough to keep him busy while Valkyrie the night manager reclined in Margot’s office with her feet up on the desk. He checked in on her on occasion, trying to see if anything was working, but she passed their entire shift chugging fountain drinks she’d stolen from the beverage machine and watching streaming video.
      By the time the morning shift arrived to relieve them, she seemed to have forgotten the altercation altogether. “You know, I think I’m going to like having a little monkey to order around. Not easy to train, but I’ll get you there, don’t you worry.” She took a long suck from her straw until she was just making a slurping noise.
      “You’re too kind, Valkyrie,” he replied as she refilled her cup. If he had to use that stupid name, he could at least enjoy saying it with some sass.
      She took another long gulp. “Don’t forget to count out the drawer before you go.” she said, licking her black-painted lips and all but skipping out to her car.
      
      
      
      The following night, he arrived before her and after taking care of the usual shift change stuff with the evening crew, he got right to work. He’d been wondering all day if the curse was working; one look at Hayley as she walked in was enough to confirm that something was off. She had a bottle of water in each hand as she got out of her car, and was visibly unsteady taking to her feet. In the florescent lights of the store, she looked plainly miserable.
      “You doing OK, Val? You don’t look so hot.”
      “I look hotter than you ever have or ever will. And no, I feel like shit. I think I’m coming down with something.”
      “Oh? You got a case of devil chills or something?”
      “Fuck off, Chance, I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”
      “You know it’s unbecoming in a lady to… curse.” He grinned.
      Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t even start that shit again.” She uncapped one of her bottles, took a long drink. Looking closely, he could see her lips were badly chapped beneath her usual black lipstick. 
      “All right. But when you want me to remove it, all you gotta do is ask.”
      “The day I think Chance Jockster Bourdain actually has magical powers. I’ll…” she paused, raising her bottle to her lips again, drinking deeply.
      “You’ll… get down on your knees and beg for mercy?” he asked into the silence.
      “Not even then. I’ll be in my office. Don’t bother me unless the store’s on fire.”
      “You got it, boss.”
      Throughout their shift, she came out of the office only twice; the first time was to get two more bottles of water. 
      The second was to get four.
      “All right, I’m out,” she said, shuffling out of the office unsteadily.
      “I’d say feel better, but that’s not really how these things work.” He assumed.
      “Shut the fuck up, you little shit. I’m going to the doc when they open, find out what this really is.”
      “All right. You know how to reach me when they can’t figure it out.”
      “Go to hell.”
      “Love you too.”
      She called the first time that afternoon, shortly after he woke up. He ignored it. Twelve more times throughout the evening she called. During commercials in the basketball games he was watching, he listened to messages.
      2:15pm: Hey, Chance. I just wondered if I could talk to you about things. Just… give me a call. It’s Valkyrie. 
      4:12pm: Hi, Valkyrie again. Look, I know you’re pissed at me but I’m your supervisor and you need to call me. Margot’s going to fire your ass. Call.
      5:50pm: Hey, it’s Val. Sorry if I was bitchy earlier. I just really, really need to talk to you. Just suck it up and fucking call me already, damnit! Please. When you get a sec.
      7:22pm: God fucking damnit, Chance! I know you’re seeing these calls and I swear to all the powers in the universe that if you don’t answer your fucking phone I will personally rip your tiny little balls off and feed them to my iguana! Pick up the goddamn phone right the fuck now!
      9:31pm: Look, Chance… I’m sorry if I was pissed before. I’m over it, OK? Just… please? Please pick up the phone? Please?
      10:18: I know I’ll see you at work in a couple hours, but maybe you could come in early? I could pick you up. I promise I won’t be a bitch again. You can even call me Hayley if you want. Whatever. Please, Chance. I’m… begging. Please?
      He was almost tempted to call her back that time – she sounded really desperate, her voice raspy and thin. But then the game went into overtime, so…
      She didn’t call again; apparently she’d realized he wouldn’t answer or was just figuring the difference between 11:30 and midnight was pretty minimal. Just to toy with her, he even showed up a few minutes late.
      There she was, seated at a stool behind the register, both hands on the counter to steady herself, as she was swaying softly just trying to stay upright. She looked like hell – sunken cheeks, mussed hair, miserable expression. Her lips were cracked terribly.
      “Damn, Hayley… you look like shit.”
      She looked over, blinking a few times, shaking her head like she was having a hard time focusing. “Chance?” she said. Her voice croaked worse than it had on the phone. “You… you have to…”
      “So, you’re saying you believe me all the sudden? Whatever changed your mind?”
      She grabbed a bottle of water from beneath the counter and pour it in a stream toward her mouth, leaving it wide open so he could watch as the water entered her mouth, and… disappeared. Not even mist – it just hit her tongue and vanished.
      “Wow. So the doctor didn’t fix it?”
      She winced, holding a finger to her lips to urge him to keep his voice down. “Told me to hydrate.” She gave a hoarse chuckle. “Thought I was full of shit. On something.”
      “Yeah, I guess telling them your co-worker cursed you isn’t exactly going to produce a quality prognosis.”
      “Help me, Chance. You gotta help me.”
      “Well now, I believe yesterday, we said the day you believed I had magical powers, you’d… what was it? Oh yeah, get on your knees and beg for mercy?”
      “You said that. I never did.”
      “Well, I’m saying it again.”
      She groaned. “C’mon, Chance. I feel like I haven’t had a drop of water in days, and you wanna pull some petty power trip?
      “Well, there is a cure for it, and… let’s just say you’ll want to be on your knees to receive it.”
      “What?!” Her eyes slammed shut in pain at the sound of her own shout.
      “You can still hydrate – you just need a different fluid to do it with.”
      She stood, glancing down at his crotch. “You’ve got to be kidding me…”
      “And, you’ll be pleased to know, you need far less of it than you did water.”
      “No… no fucking way… I’m not gonna suck your cock, Chance. Not ever.”
      “All righty then, have it your way. I quit.” He unclipped his nametag and set it on the counter.
      He was halfway to his car when he heard her behind him. “No no no wait!” She was having a hard time walking, but was staggering after him as fast she she could.
      Chance turned. “Yeah?”
      “Don’t quit. Come back inside, and… I’ll do it.”
      “Do what, exactly?”
      She scowled. “What? Do I have to spell it out for you?”
      “I wanna hear you say it.”
      Valkyrie took a deep breath, her bosom heaving. “I’ll suck your dick.”
      Chance smiled. “Well, all right then.”
      He followed her inside and immediately went back behind the counter. “Let’s go to the office and get it over with, all right?”
      “Nah, I’d rather have it right here,” he replied. “Relax, anyone who comes in won’t be able to see you down there. Probably. Come on now.”
      Shoulder slumping in defeat, she made her way behind the counter and almost fell to her knees, she was so dizzy. He took a step back, and allowed her to undo his fly. There it was in front of her.
      Instantly, her mouth started watering. Then some more. When she opened it, he immediately saw a line of drool snaking out and down her chin. She wiped it up with her sleeve, blushing in embarrassment, then leaned in to begin.
      Chance put his hand on her forehead and stopped her. “Hold on there, babe. You forgot to beg.”
      “Serioushly?” Her eyes widened as the flood in her mouth made it difficult to speak, then tried to swallow it down. “Fine! Fucking fine. Please Chance can I suck your cock.”
      “With that attitude? No way.” 
      He reached for his fly, but she quickly grabbed his hands and pulled them away. “No! Fine, here goesh. Pretty pretty pleash, can I shuck your cock, Chansh? I want to shoooooo badly. Jusht relaksh, shit back, and let your bosh shuck you off, OK?”
      He smiled. “You’re awfully cute when you’re making a puddle on your boobs.” Indeed, enough had dribbled down to make a visible wet spot where it fell on top of her breasts. “Fine – go get ‘em, ‘Valkyrie.’”
      She took it in her mouth, and swirled her tongue around it, licking him to hardness in moments. Her mouth was flooded with moisture, but he didn’t mind. Every tendril that leaked out from between her black, gothic lips was a reminder of his power over her.
      When the first drop of pre-cum dribbled out, Val groaned in ecstacy as the sweet nutrient entered her, pulling back to eagerly gulp it down, then pounced back on him. Her blowjob had begun woodenly, an obligatory act; now, she was at it like a woman possessed, her whole body rocking as she blew him. Both black-tipped hands clutched at his ass, pulling him against her, clutching him so hard against her face that his dribbles went right into her throat as his balls rested easily on her chin. They were twitching, moving ever so softly against her skin, that she knew he was about to cum. She moaned in anticipation of the glorious nectar awaiting her.
      Then she heard the bell; someone had entered the store. 
      Chance recovered a bit as the customer came in, a portly middle-aged fellow, nodding politely and heading toward the freezer section. Valkyrie clearly was beyond caring about being noticed; she’d had a taste now and needed more. Her life literally depended on it. As the customer came up to the counter with a half-gallon of milk and some donuts, she bobbed so hard she smacked her head loudly against one of the shelves loudly.
      The man arched an eyebrow at the noise; Chance pointed down and then made a pumping motion with his mouth open. The man understood the pantomime well enough to lean forward and peer down, just able to see the wiccan’s jet-black hair rustling back and forth in her eager blowjob. Chance scanned his purchases as smoothly as he could under the circumstances as the man gaped.
      “That’ll be $7.19,” he said.
      The man had to try three times before he could swipe his card, so distracted was he. “That’s… pretty wild, man,” he said.
      “Wild nothing – she’d pretty cute. Stand up and say hello, Val.”
      She shook her head, not interrupting the blowjob for a second. He had to physically push her back off of him, a big glop of saliva falling out as it hit the floor. Chance gave her a hand up, keeping her in front of him for modesty, and spinning her around. “See? Not too bad, right? If you dig that kinda vibe. Say hi to the nice man, boss.”
      She turned and glared at him instead. “Wait, she’s your boss?” The man asked, incredulous.
      “Sure is. But when it comes to sucking my cock, she just can’t get enough. Isn’t that right, boss?”
      “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”
      “Fine, no more cock for you.” He carefully tucked himself away and zipped it in. 
      “What? No! No, you have to let me…!”
      “I don’t have to do anything. We have a special on bottled water today, though.”
      Neither heard the man as he backed towards the door. “This is too fuckin’ weird…”
      “No, I begged for thish! I earned it! You have to let me get it!”
      “Too late, I’m not in the mood any more.”
      “Chansh, pleeeeash!” she whined. “Let me get you… back in the mood.”
      He paused. “I’m listening.”
      She sunk back to her knees, and once thusly obscured from the store windows, she untucked her shirt from her slacks and pulled it off. Her skin was like porcelain, perfectly smooth and so white it almost gleamed. Her bra was as black as the rest of her adornments, but then, it was gone too, revealing two shapely breasts, each capped with a nipple so dark brown that they too nearly matched her hair.
      “You like my titsh?” she asked. “C’mon. Let your bosh finish what she shtarted.” She licked her lips; they shone wetly, like latex had been poured over them.
      Chance relented, as he’d always planned to. No customer interrupted the rest of her blowjob; he let that thirsty bitch suck him like his cum was manna from heaven. Which it was, in a way. He let her work undisturbed this time, her tongue and mouth conveying all the desperation he’d put into her.
      He waited until he was just about to cum, then stepped back and unloaded all over her. Chance had been saving up for this, so he was able to coat her face, her hair, her chin, her tits, some on her tummy – and, he was ashamed to say, some even went wide and splatted into the shelves behind her.
      “Nooooooooo!” she wailed. In a panic, she began desperately scooping every blob she could find and shoveling them into her mouth. When the first morsel hit her tongue, she squealed in bliss and redoubled her efforts. Chance got hard again as he watched her bend down to lap each dribble off her breasts, even sucking the soiled strands of her hair clean. 
      “All better?” he asked as she finished.
      Finally realizing he was still standing there watching her, she hastily grabbed her shirt and threw it back on, then slapped him hard across the face. “How dare you, you bastard! I hope you had fun with your little trick, because you’re fired! Not just fired – I’m going to go to the police, tell them you… you… did something to me! I don’t know what yet but I’ll figure it out. You’re life is over, you son of a bitch!”
      Chance rubbed his cheek, scowling. “Well, before you pick up the phone, just to let you know – you didn’t end the curse.”
      “Wait, what?”
      “The curse just means you need cum to hydrate. Mine, specifically. Getting a drink doesn’t end the curse, any more than a normal person taking a drink means they won’t get thirsty again in a few hours.”
      “You… you’re… you’ve gotta be fucking joking.”
      “Nope. You’re gonna need at least a dose a day from here on out, or you’re gonna be right back where you were.”
      “No. This can’t be… you’re not…”
      “Hey, a little more good news. Orally isn’t the only way to take your dosage. Why do you think your mouth wasn’t the only part of you that got good and juicy?” She put her hands down to cover her crotch, but it was too late. The wet stain was all too obvious. 
      “You bastard…”
      “Hey now, you shouldn’t be calling me names, or next time you get thirsty, I may not be so charitable. Say, speaking of, I’ve been thinking. Maybe ‘Valkyrie’ isn’t the best fit for you, Hayley.”
      Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
      
      
      
      Two weeks later, Chance headed into work with a spring in his step. He’d never had a job he was so eager to get to before. He say hello to the evening crew, and once they were gone, headed straight back to the manager’s office.
      Not five minutes later, his supervisor entered. As always, she was a vision. Her golden hair shoned even in the dim light, and her ruby-red lips wore a broad smile between adorable dimples. As she immediately shed her top, he was again struck by how her coppery skin complimented her lacey pink bra. The pants followed, revealing matching panties.
      Of course, they were already soaked through.
      “Good evening, Mr. Bourdain,” she chirped pleasantly as she reached behind her to undo the clasp on her bra. “Could I interest you in a blowjob before I get to work? Or do you want my pussy tonight?” She hopped up to kneel atop the desk in front of him, jiggling enticingly.
      “Oh, I was thinking maybe I’d take a night off, actually,” he said.
      “Are you absolutely sure?” she said, squeezing her breasts together with her arms. “I’m such a good cock-sucker, and you know how wet my tight little pussy gets for you, sir.”
      That was true. As long as she didn’t go too long without – like that first time – she could keep the moisture mostly under control, but she still got good and wet for him, wherever he wanted to have her. (Her ass didn’t lube up, but that was probably for the best. And besides, so far he hadn’t tired of the other holes.)
      “I dunno. Did you get your special nametag like I asked?”
      She nodded. Her smile twitched, slipping for just a moment, but she knew how much harder he made things for her when she broke character. “Would you like to inspect it, sir?”
      She turned around, and there across her lower back, just above her panties, was a wide cursive script styled to resemble leafy vines. It read “Nymph.”
      “I think that’s a much better fit for you. You cleaned up just as well as I said, my pretty little witch.”
      She swallowed down her shame – and a mouthful of spit as she was so close to his cock she could smell it – and forced a giggle. “See, I told you I’m a good witch!” she insisted. “Only bad witches are ugly.”