Enter Nikki

This whole thing, maybe even the entirety of my writing, is experimental. So I’m still figuring out what’s going to prove the best way to deliver words to you. Help T out by giving me feedback either in the comments or by email or wherever we normally talk.

So today we have the introduction of Nikki, one of the more bizarre and convoluted characters I’ve dreamed up. And I say I but she’s undoubtedly the union of my imagination with that of my childhood best friend, Phil. (Hey you! Thanks for reading all these years and for backing me always!) How all that fits together, we’ll get to eventually, but right now let your mind relax around her origins and just get to know her. She was intended simply to be an enigmatic figure sort of on the edges of the City and more the subject of rumor or gossip, but then I started writing about her directly, and folks on Ello seemed to want to know more, so more followed.

I’ve given you a batch of her first five point-of-view appearances. There’s around thirty so far, I think. Enjoy your time together!

We’re Here

Jessica kisses her neck, whispers, “I love you, Nikki. I’m so glad we’re here together. We can really make a life here now.”

Nikki says, “I love you. We’re not safe here, though.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not like it was on the island, Jess. The city doesn’t like us here. It wants us gone.”

Jessica kisses Nikki’s neck again, then her ear, pulls her closer. “The city is going to have to get over it. ‘Cause we’re here to stay.”

Al-Kamil

Nikki pushed open the door to Al-Kamil, shaking her head at the word ‘gastropub’ lettered carefully in gothic font.

The place was filled with bustling folk, lively in their opulent tattoos and drenched in stylish handmade jewelry, sipping this and nomming that.

Opeyemi wiped glasses idly, saw Nikki, said, “Shit. Isaiah, go get Seong-Min.”

Isaiah rubbed stoned eyes, blinked. “Why?”

“Nikki is here.”

“Oh. Shit. Yeah, okay, I’m on it.”

Isaiah hurried off as Nikki reached the bar.

“Hey there, Yemi.”

Opeyemi smiled, long along the lips. “Hallo, Nikki. Wie gehts?”

Nikki looked past Yemi, through to the kitchen where Isaiah crashed into a food cart. “Oh, you know. Nothing really.”

“Your usual, then?”

Nikki nodded, sat down.

Yemi poured the glass full, set it in front on Nikki on the mahogany bar, stuffed an umbrella in a lemon wedge sucking the rim.

Nikki lit a cigarette, blew out the smoke. “You seen her?”

Yemi smiled the same. “You know she doesn’t want to see you, yes?”

“No, I don’t know that, actually. She’s never told me that.”

“Well, she has told me, Nikki. Explicitly. She said, ‘I don’t want to see, Nikki, Yemi.’”

Nikki smoked. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

“It did when it was coming from her.”

Nikki rolled her eyes, inhaled more smoke, turned back toward the dining area. “Tell her I was here.”

“If I see her, I will tell her. You have my word.”

Nikki took the drink, drank it down. “Too much sugar today.”

“You know Isaiah.”

“Yeah. Listen, I’m gonna need a visa, too. Possibly some other things.”

“By when?”

“Soonish.”

“You have money, I trust?”

Nikki let her sleeve open and cash poured from it onto the bar.

Yemi looked at the pile. “I have seen your tricks before, Nikki. Be sure you bring it more discreetly next time.”

Nikki put the cigarette out on the bar. “Will do.” She looked toward the sound of feet on polished floor in the kitchen. “Tell Seong-Min I’ll stay a bit longer next time.”

Yemi blinked, scooped the cash into a pile, like cards, set the stack.

Nikki wandered through the folks of the floor, seeing them, but not seeing them, thinking: Seven billion ants on the farm.

A Most Serious Conversation

“She’s fuckin’ dying, Nikki! Do something!”

“What the fuck do you want me to do?”

“I know you, Nikki, god damn it, I see you do it. You turn water into wine.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Jessica?”

“I know you. I’ve seen inside you. I know what you can do.”

“Oh, you’ve seen inside me, huh? You know me now. Where the fuck were you when I was bleeding by the river? What did you know then?”

“Look, god damn it, I can’t explain it all. I just know it. I feel it when we’re together and I see the little things, the things you tried to hide. If you were bleeding it’s cos you wanted to be bleeding …”

“I wanted to be bleeding?”

“Yeah.”

“I wanted to be bleeding? That’s what you think?”

“Yes!”

“Like I decided to open a god damned slit it my side? I would do that?”

“Nikki, Nikki, look! Look at her!”

“Someone’s bashed her teeth in.”

“She’s twitching, Nikki! Jesus Christ!”

“I’m sorry, Jessica.”

“I know you can do this, Nikki, I know it. Please do it. Please. Why won’t you do it?”

“Would that make you happy?”

“Yes! Yes, please, just don’t let her die.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s my friend. Because she’s a fucking person! Christ, Nikki, what the fuck do you mean, why?”

“If her life means that much to you, just tell me why.”

“She’s like my sister. She’s this lost kid and I want to help her.”

“Help her? She brought us here.”

“Nikki, please. Please stop this. Save her life.”

“If you’re so certain I can do this, what difference does it make?”

“What?”

“You didn’t think of that. I don’t know why I’m surprised. No one ever does.”

“Nikki, her teeth …”

“Her teeth. Right. Let’s not fucking forget the teeth. Wouldn’t want to miss that.”

“I’m confused, Nikki. I don’t understand why you’re upset.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“Well, there you go.”

“Oh, god, I can’t believe it.”

“And here you just begged me ‘cause you did believe it. Where are my cigarettes?”

“On the coffee table, the one with the Rolling Stone on it, by the front door.”

“I can’t fucking believe I’m here, Jessica. I can’t believe we came here. This is what we were supposed to be getting away from.”

“Nikki, please. Get her some water.”

“There’s some in the glass right behind you. The one I was drinking from.”

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks, babe.”

“I can’t find a body that wants me, and I can’t find a heart that minds.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t walk around like I am inside, and the outside’s this elaborate play, all staged and scripted.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, baby?”

“There’s truth. It’s recessed but not impossible to find. Nobody’s looking for it, Jessica. No one even fucking wonders about it. No one wants to find it. They want this.”

/get sick info

The emerald door swung, and the ancient_tender lokkedup. They saw the black silhouette with dem chromed bitz.

“I’m here to see dope_angel.“

The tender blinked, eye went to scan, said, “State your name.“

“Nikki Hawke.“

When the scan hit Nikki’s eye, she took alt_ctrl.

The tender rolled their eyes back as Nikki rewrote them. Beam went out, they said, “They are sleeping and will not hear you enter.“

Nikki ignored them. “Open the door.“ She could have, but it’s better this way.

Dope_angel was, indeed, asleep on the bed.

“Wake up,“ Nikki said.

Angel sat up, blinked, eyes went blue with scanners. “Nikki? What da fuck?“

“I wanna know where she is, Dope.“

“I don’t think she wants to talk to you, Nikki.“

“People keep telling me that, but I keep finding messages from her. So someone isn’t being honest. Are you being honest, Dope?“

“That’s a tough question to answer truthfully, Nikki.“

Nikki lit a smoke with one hand, pulled a pistol with the other.

“What is that?“

“Never mind. Where is she?“

But dope_angel was hooked. “It’s hella_rad, Nik. Whatsit play?“

“Opera.“

Angel frowned. “Oh.“

Nikki smoked. “Are you going to tell me?“

Angel sighed. “She went to that weird place youteo like togo. The tall white thing that plays boatz.“

“The lighthouse?“

Angel shrugged, walked on her hands and knees across the touchsheets. “Kmon, Nik. Forgetz her. She’s a loose_drag. Play with mez.“

Nikki put the gun away, smoked, then asked, “What shall we play?“

Dope_angel showed electric teeth. “Dem bitez, tho.“

Nikki exhaled, flicked the lit smoke at the silksteel curtains. It rolled onto a real bearskin rug. The tender swept it up, left, closed the door.

Camarilla

“There’s only a few of them, Nikki,” Diane said. “And they want it to be even fewer.”

Diane passed the cigarette to Nikki.

She took a drag, asked, “Who?” then handed it back.

Diane smoked, said, “Giyven. Marcella. Warlock …”

“Warlock?”

“That’s what they call them, yeah.”

“What do they look like?”

“I don’t know. Never seen ‘em. They talk on the phone late at night. One time they were all in the upstairs parlor, playing cards, I think. I heard them talking about cards.”

Diane handed the smoke to Nikki.

She puffed. “Cards.”

“Yeah, cards.”

“Who do they want out?”

“Huh?”

“You said they want to be smaller. So who’s out?”

“They talk about Everett Paisley and Rio. They talk about Minke van Zante.”

“You hear them talk?”

“Um hmm. Sometimes for hours. I fall asleep to it.”

“What do they sound like?”

“Who? Nathan?”

“No, Warlock.”

“Oh. Kind of a deep voice. Melodic with some fry, I guess.”

“What do they say?”

“It’s card talk, Nikki. That and things like, ‘shrinking waste.’”

Nikki pulled the smoke, burned the paper. “Can I stay the night sometime?”

“Why, to hear them?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know, Nikki. If I get caught, Nathan won’t be gentle. Marcella even worse.”

“They won’t catch anything. I’ll be quiet as a mouse.”