Post by Nathan Saniti on Mar 30, 2013 10:52:58 GMT -5
Flanked by their nemeses, the Odd Duck and Nathan Saniti peer around, hopelessly outnumbered. The Golden Bee and the now humanoid Jolly Roger laughed their guttural guffaws, waving their golden cutlasses menacingly. They were quite enough of a challenge. It was the other pair who garnered most of the attention from the intrepid heroes.
As the mechanical music played, the Jabbawokee known as “The Beast” seemed to begin to transform. His body twisted and contorted to the thumping of his own electronic. Black, grotesque appendages began to sprout from his body reminiscent of the tentacles of a squid. Still they kept their hypnotic rhythms as they grew forth. The blue sequined SeaBassTian writhed unnaturally to the beat as well, his lithe body seeming to no longer be under his own control.
Nathan steeled himself with the gigantic watch hands, once again offering one to his friend. “Are you certain I can rely upon you to assist me in putting these ruffians to rest?” As he looked over his shoulder for a response, he saw the backside of the Odd Duck’s shell and tail feathers as he bolted upwards and over their adversaries without a word. “For being very un-hydrodynamic,” Nathan puzzled inwardly, “he’s quite the fast swimmer.” Nathan’s eyes widened as he watched his friend abandon him, racing towards the underwater city of the Nur-Maids. “Come back, Mr. Q! ASSIST ME!” Nathan shook his head at his Freudian slip.
The pirates chuckled as the other pair advanced from the gulley of the split road behind him. “Well, well, well…” chortled Jolly Roger. “Looks like yer friend has left ye to the sharks.”
“Maybe one of us should go after him,” interjected the Bee.
“I be the leader here, and what I say shall go.” The Bee looked rather displeased at the thoughts of Jolly Roger being the leader and being told what to do. Nathan noted the reaction as a spark went off in his head. Luckily, and idea formed as well, otherwise the spark may have very well incinerated his mind.
“It’s just like those tag champions,” he silently mused. “The more down-to-earth one doesn’t seem to enjoy the gimmickery the other has forced upon him. Perhaps I can use that little rift to my advantage.” Nathan slowly turned his gaze to the obviously more powerful adversaries, still pondering his next move. Without his hat, there was only so much he would be able to do. “Those two are only dancing to the same beat unwillingly as well, yet I can’t seem to put my finger upon which of them is the better man whose sense to appeal to.”
As he perplexed his situation, The Beast’s appendages reached their capacity. Then his body turned its attention to growing larger than life. Keep in mind that Life is a rather tall chap in his own accord. Closer and closer he drew with each undulant step, SeaBassTian writhing alongside him. A strange sliver of a glint caught Nathan’s eyes just above each of the sequined fish’s fins. Had the sunlight not been in just the right spot at that particular second, it may have very well gone completely unnoticed. Suddenly Nathan understood everything.
Before he could pinpoint the source of the wires leading from SeaBassTian, he caught Jolly Roger charging, parrying the flag-man’s cutlass barely to the side with the minute hand. “I shall have your golden cutlasses this day just as I shall have the tag team gold at Mass Destruction 3. Never more shall the masses be forced to look on as such unsavory men continue their reign of tyranny.”
As Jolly Roger withdrew for another lunge, Bee sprang forth with a volley of his own. Nathan struggled to hold them at bay, knowing that once the other pair joins the fray, he may very well be done for. “Yar har, matey,” cackled Jolly Roger, “You be all by your lonesome in holding us off. Valiant. Nobel. Yet foolhardy.” Nathan’s muscles quaked at the struggle of preventing himself from being pierced by their weapons. His watch hands, being made of inferior materials most likely from China, began to bend and give at the points of contact.
Nathan grew desperate. He knew if he could turn the cocky twosome against each other, they would quickly become a non-issue. Then another idea struck him. The momentum of the blow was enough for him to force his oppressors away briefly. He lowered himself into a stance as they composed themselves, the minute hand drawn above his head and the hour hand about waist, or fish-flesh, or whatever, high. “It’s just like Bees and Wasps to have a hive mentality,” he stated. “Always the follower, never the leader. Tell me, my dear Mr. Bee… How long are you going to procure treasures for Mr. Roger before you finally figure out you are better off on your own?”
The Golden Bee cocked his head to the side as if he were a dog that had just been shown a card trick. “I do as I will, landlubber,” he argued pointlessly. “I do no one’s bidding.”
“Yet here you are, under the whims of Mr. Roger,” Nathan snapped with a smug grin. “Where are your strings, my little puppet?”
“I AM NO ONE’S PUPPET!” cried the indignant Bee. Nathan smiled broadly at him as he charged, which seemed to add more fuel to his raging fire. He sliced at Nathan rampantly, the Whimsical Witzender blocking his shots easily. He knew if he could anger the creature enough he would strike in a blind rage, just as he did. Bee backed away, puffing his chest like a legendary karate champion, before having one more go at the mocking Nathan. As he lunged forth, Nathan body dropped him head over stinger just above the now far too close SeaBassTian, tangling him in the nearly invisible wiring. The sequined fish danced violently underneath the Golden Bee as he struggled to free himself.
“Reveal yourself, Grigori!” Nathan exclaimed. “I am aware that this is your doing!” He slowly turned to Jolly Roger as he finished his sentence, leveling his weapons at the supposed pirate. The hand opposite the one holding the golden cutlass reached to his face and pulled back the flag encasing the being underneath.
The bearded and horse-faced Grigori Rasputin shucked the flag to the side, still clutching his weapon. Malice pooled in his eyes, turning even the whites black as sack cloth. “So you figured out which one was me, Nathan?” He slowly began to circle, stalking Nathan with malicious intent. “And you figured out just how to distract us from our goals temporarily. Bravo,” he said sarcastically. “Very well played. Even with the fish and the insect somewhat incapacitated, you still have myself and The Beast to contend with.”
“Agreed, but there is one thing you didn’t count upon in your haste.” Nathan’s smile grew nearly from ear to ear as he positioned his back to the city facing his two biggest threats. “Just as my opponents may not see it coming once Mr. Q and I get in the ring together, you never counted upon my friends quite nearly as much as I have.”
The monstrous Beast and Rasputin both froze in their advances as a swarm of dots in the distance grew more numerous and in size as they drew nearer. Taking point of the mass was the Odd Duck, swimming as fast as his little duck feet could paddle. Mer-men and women of all shapes and colors of scrubs raced closely behind Nathan’s friend, wielding syringes with three points. In a watery flash, they all gathered behind the outnumbered man, purpose and courage in their stances. The Beast knew of their reputation for quick wit and even temperament, yet ferocious dedication to whatever cause they resigned themselves to. He began to back away slowly.
“Where do you think you are going?” belted Rasputin at the enormous creature.
“I know when I’m outgunned,” growled the Beast. “You would do well to know it too.” He turned tails and tentacles, leaving his master in his wake.
A snarl of fury wrinkled Rasputin’s entire face, nearly caving it in hideously as he inhaled. “COWARD!” He exhaled a cry of wrath so fierce that it coned out like a sonic boom in the water, sending those who hadn’t braced themselves against it toppling head over tail. Rows of razor sharp teeth encircled his mouth like a lamprey, each circle moving the opposite direction as the ones next to them. Rasputin bolted at Nathan, his cutlass extended. Nathan parried the blow, sending his adversary to the sandy floor below with a flourish. Before he could recompose himself, the Nur-Maids surrounded him; their trident syringes leveled firmly his direction.
Nathan shot around to the struggling Bee and the unwillingly gyrating SeaBassTian. Heaving the hour hand at the pair, the weapon severed the wires binding the two, freeing the fish and entangling the insect. Nur-Maids gathered at those two as well, nursing one and capturing the other. “I suppose my work here is nearly at its end,” Nathan thought as he uncovered the gaping wound he suffered from Rasputin’s last attack. He covered the sliced rib back before anyone could notice.
Rasputin whiffed the water and smiled his toothy grin. “Seems I have underestimated you, my old friend,” he glowered as he turned his head to Nathan. “But we shall meet again, should you be so fortunate.” His guttural laugh echoed throughout the waves as he dissolved into the sand to avoid imprisonment.
SeaBassTian swam up to Nathan, finally back to his own bidding. “Thanks for releasing me from…” Noticing the mortal wounds Nathan had suffered, he bolted in time to catch his savior and place him gently on the sea floor. “Over here!” he commanded excitedly. “Quickly!”
Nur-Maids shimmied to Nathan’s side hastily. They began to attempt to mend his wounds as he weakened. “We must… return to my hat.” He coughed a bit, staring blankly at none of the sorrowed faces surrounding him. “There are those who need tending more than me, I’m afraid.”
“How are we going to get you home?” SeaBassTian queried. “We have no means for quicker travel.”
“Nonsense,” replied Nathan, “We have had fun.” Nathan grasped one of the Nur-Maid’s syringes, placing the minute hand on the shaft of the plunger. The hour hand, returned by one of the Nur-Maids, was also placed on the syringe. Both began to whirl feverishly like copter blades. “Time flies when you’re having fun. Everyone knows that.” Nathan pulls his trousers out from a hidden pocket in his fishy thighs. As he sets them down to the ground, they expand, most likely from the warm tropical waters. Soon they are immensely large enough so that several of the Nur-Maids and Nathan can rest comfortably. “And we shall fly by the seat of my pants.” SeaBassTian begins to board the pants, but Nathan holds him at bay with a hand. “No, my dear boy. You must go and tend to your friend Marina and the rest of your extended family. Take care of them. She needs help, but is in no danger currently. Mostly, she and the others need you.” Nathan struggled to a sitting position on his makeshift copter, planting the tines of the syringe deep into the seat of the pants. “Good thing I wasn’t wearing them at the time,” he remarked. He looked to the sky as they lifted off. He knew Nur-maids, being amphibious due to genetics, could survive for short periods out of water. They broke the surface and blasted off towards his hat as the others below them waved their goodbyes and well-wishes.
Later, as the last of the Nur-maids worked their magick on the slowly reviving crew of the Real Life, they began to depart into the orange waters, heading back to their glorious city, leaving the odd man and his rag tag bunch behind. Tarrant, deeply concerned for his best friend, stood vigilantly by the side of the bed. “LAND HO!” The cry snapped Tarrant back into the now.
“Stupid fracking sailors and their Hoes,” grumbled Tarrant under his breath. “Who cares if they’re made of land? Can’t they keep it in their pants for a minute? The man who saved them is dying.”
“LAND HO!” announced the lookout again.
Tarrant spun on the doorway and began stomping out in a huff. He ascended the stairs to the deck of the hat. As he surfaced, the look of utter horror overtook his face. It wasn’t a call-girl made of mud and grass at all, but an island in the near distance. But it wasn’t the sliver of dry earth that caught his gaze. Nor was it the calling of the seagulls that invaded his ears and caused him pause. It was the distant sound of the carnival placed obviously on the shoreline. The flashing lights and whiff of cotton candy and corndogs were almost too intoxicating to bear. Tarrant’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest. “Oh. My. God. The Circus of Souls.” Tarrant took a minute to compose himself, fighting back his fears for his friend. He lit his cigar and puffed deeply to assuage his nerves. “I only hope they aren’t here for Nathan.”
As the mechanical music played, the Jabbawokee known as “The Beast” seemed to begin to transform. His body twisted and contorted to the thumping of his own electronic. Black, grotesque appendages began to sprout from his body reminiscent of the tentacles of a squid. Still they kept their hypnotic rhythms as they grew forth. The blue sequined SeaBassTian writhed unnaturally to the beat as well, his lithe body seeming to no longer be under his own control.
Nathan steeled himself with the gigantic watch hands, once again offering one to his friend. “Are you certain I can rely upon you to assist me in putting these ruffians to rest?” As he looked over his shoulder for a response, he saw the backside of the Odd Duck’s shell and tail feathers as he bolted upwards and over their adversaries without a word. “For being very un-hydrodynamic,” Nathan puzzled inwardly, “he’s quite the fast swimmer.” Nathan’s eyes widened as he watched his friend abandon him, racing towards the underwater city of the Nur-Maids. “Come back, Mr. Q! ASSIST ME!” Nathan shook his head at his Freudian slip.
The pirates chuckled as the other pair advanced from the gulley of the split road behind him. “Well, well, well…” chortled Jolly Roger. “Looks like yer friend has left ye to the sharks.”
“Maybe one of us should go after him,” interjected the Bee.
“I be the leader here, and what I say shall go.” The Bee looked rather displeased at the thoughts of Jolly Roger being the leader and being told what to do. Nathan noted the reaction as a spark went off in his head. Luckily, and idea formed as well, otherwise the spark may have very well incinerated his mind.
“It’s just like those tag champions,” he silently mused. “The more down-to-earth one doesn’t seem to enjoy the gimmickery the other has forced upon him. Perhaps I can use that little rift to my advantage.” Nathan slowly turned his gaze to the obviously more powerful adversaries, still pondering his next move. Without his hat, there was only so much he would be able to do. “Those two are only dancing to the same beat unwillingly as well, yet I can’t seem to put my finger upon which of them is the better man whose sense to appeal to.”
As he perplexed his situation, The Beast’s appendages reached their capacity. Then his body turned its attention to growing larger than life. Keep in mind that Life is a rather tall chap in his own accord. Closer and closer he drew with each undulant step, SeaBassTian writhing alongside him. A strange sliver of a glint caught Nathan’s eyes just above each of the sequined fish’s fins. Had the sunlight not been in just the right spot at that particular second, it may have very well gone completely unnoticed. Suddenly Nathan understood everything.
Before he could pinpoint the source of the wires leading from SeaBassTian, he caught Jolly Roger charging, parrying the flag-man’s cutlass barely to the side with the minute hand. “I shall have your golden cutlasses this day just as I shall have the tag team gold at Mass Destruction 3. Never more shall the masses be forced to look on as such unsavory men continue their reign of tyranny.”
As Jolly Roger withdrew for another lunge, Bee sprang forth with a volley of his own. Nathan struggled to hold them at bay, knowing that once the other pair joins the fray, he may very well be done for. “Yar har, matey,” cackled Jolly Roger, “You be all by your lonesome in holding us off. Valiant. Nobel. Yet foolhardy.” Nathan’s muscles quaked at the struggle of preventing himself from being pierced by their weapons. His watch hands, being made of inferior materials most likely from China, began to bend and give at the points of contact.
Nathan grew desperate. He knew if he could turn the cocky twosome against each other, they would quickly become a non-issue. Then another idea struck him. The momentum of the blow was enough for him to force his oppressors away briefly. He lowered himself into a stance as they composed themselves, the minute hand drawn above his head and the hour hand about waist, or fish-flesh, or whatever, high. “It’s just like Bees and Wasps to have a hive mentality,” he stated. “Always the follower, never the leader. Tell me, my dear Mr. Bee… How long are you going to procure treasures for Mr. Roger before you finally figure out you are better off on your own?”
The Golden Bee cocked his head to the side as if he were a dog that had just been shown a card trick. “I do as I will, landlubber,” he argued pointlessly. “I do no one’s bidding.”
“Yet here you are, under the whims of Mr. Roger,” Nathan snapped with a smug grin. “Where are your strings, my little puppet?”
“I AM NO ONE’S PUPPET!” cried the indignant Bee. Nathan smiled broadly at him as he charged, which seemed to add more fuel to his raging fire. He sliced at Nathan rampantly, the Whimsical Witzender blocking his shots easily. He knew if he could anger the creature enough he would strike in a blind rage, just as he did. Bee backed away, puffing his chest like a legendary karate champion, before having one more go at the mocking Nathan. As he lunged forth, Nathan body dropped him head over stinger just above the now far too close SeaBassTian, tangling him in the nearly invisible wiring. The sequined fish danced violently underneath the Golden Bee as he struggled to free himself.
“Reveal yourself, Grigori!” Nathan exclaimed. “I am aware that this is your doing!” He slowly turned to Jolly Roger as he finished his sentence, leveling his weapons at the supposed pirate. The hand opposite the one holding the golden cutlass reached to his face and pulled back the flag encasing the being underneath.
The bearded and horse-faced Grigori Rasputin shucked the flag to the side, still clutching his weapon. Malice pooled in his eyes, turning even the whites black as sack cloth. “So you figured out which one was me, Nathan?” He slowly began to circle, stalking Nathan with malicious intent. “And you figured out just how to distract us from our goals temporarily. Bravo,” he said sarcastically. “Very well played. Even with the fish and the insect somewhat incapacitated, you still have myself and The Beast to contend with.”
“Agreed, but there is one thing you didn’t count upon in your haste.” Nathan’s smile grew nearly from ear to ear as he positioned his back to the city facing his two biggest threats. “Just as my opponents may not see it coming once Mr. Q and I get in the ring together, you never counted upon my friends quite nearly as much as I have.”
The monstrous Beast and Rasputin both froze in their advances as a swarm of dots in the distance grew more numerous and in size as they drew nearer. Taking point of the mass was the Odd Duck, swimming as fast as his little duck feet could paddle. Mer-men and women of all shapes and colors of scrubs raced closely behind Nathan’s friend, wielding syringes with three points. In a watery flash, they all gathered behind the outnumbered man, purpose and courage in their stances. The Beast knew of their reputation for quick wit and even temperament, yet ferocious dedication to whatever cause they resigned themselves to. He began to back away slowly.
“Where do you think you are going?” belted Rasputin at the enormous creature.
“I know when I’m outgunned,” growled the Beast. “You would do well to know it too.” He turned tails and tentacles, leaving his master in his wake.
A snarl of fury wrinkled Rasputin’s entire face, nearly caving it in hideously as he inhaled. “COWARD!” He exhaled a cry of wrath so fierce that it coned out like a sonic boom in the water, sending those who hadn’t braced themselves against it toppling head over tail. Rows of razor sharp teeth encircled his mouth like a lamprey, each circle moving the opposite direction as the ones next to them. Rasputin bolted at Nathan, his cutlass extended. Nathan parried the blow, sending his adversary to the sandy floor below with a flourish. Before he could recompose himself, the Nur-Maids surrounded him; their trident syringes leveled firmly his direction.
Nathan shot around to the struggling Bee and the unwillingly gyrating SeaBassTian. Heaving the hour hand at the pair, the weapon severed the wires binding the two, freeing the fish and entangling the insect. Nur-Maids gathered at those two as well, nursing one and capturing the other. “I suppose my work here is nearly at its end,” Nathan thought as he uncovered the gaping wound he suffered from Rasputin’s last attack. He covered the sliced rib back before anyone could notice.
Rasputin whiffed the water and smiled his toothy grin. “Seems I have underestimated you, my old friend,” he glowered as he turned his head to Nathan. “But we shall meet again, should you be so fortunate.” His guttural laugh echoed throughout the waves as he dissolved into the sand to avoid imprisonment.
SeaBassTian swam up to Nathan, finally back to his own bidding. “Thanks for releasing me from…” Noticing the mortal wounds Nathan had suffered, he bolted in time to catch his savior and place him gently on the sea floor. “Over here!” he commanded excitedly. “Quickly!”
Nur-Maids shimmied to Nathan’s side hastily. They began to attempt to mend his wounds as he weakened. “We must… return to my hat.” He coughed a bit, staring blankly at none of the sorrowed faces surrounding him. “There are those who need tending more than me, I’m afraid.”
“How are we going to get you home?” SeaBassTian queried. “We have no means for quicker travel.”
“Nonsense,” replied Nathan, “We have had fun.” Nathan grasped one of the Nur-Maid’s syringes, placing the minute hand on the shaft of the plunger. The hour hand, returned by one of the Nur-Maids, was also placed on the syringe. Both began to whirl feverishly like copter blades. “Time flies when you’re having fun. Everyone knows that.” Nathan pulls his trousers out from a hidden pocket in his fishy thighs. As he sets them down to the ground, they expand, most likely from the warm tropical waters. Soon they are immensely large enough so that several of the Nur-Maids and Nathan can rest comfortably. “And we shall fly by the seat of my pants.” SeaBassTian begins to board the pants, but Nathan holds him at bay with a hand. “No, my dear boy. You must go and tend to your friend Marina and the rest of your extended family. Take care of them. She needs help, but is in no danger currently. Mostly, she and the others need you.” Nathan struggled to a sitting position on his makeshift copter, planting the tines of the syringe deep into the seat of the pants. “Good thing I wasn’t wearing them at the time,” he remarked. He looked to the sky as they lifted off. He knew Nur-maids, being amphibious due to genetics, could survive for short periods out of water. They broke the surface and blasted off towards his hat as the others below them waved their goodbyes and well-wishes.
Later, as the last of the Nur-maids worked their magick on the slowly reviving crew of the Real Life, they began to depart into the orange waters, heading back to their glorious city, leaving the odd man and his rag tag bunch behind. Tarrant, deeply concerned for his best friend, stood vigilantly by the side of the bed. “LAND HO!” The cry snapped Tarrant back into the now.
“Stupid fracking sailors and their Hoes,” grumbled Tarrant under his breath. “Who cares if they’re made of land? Can’t they keep it in their pants for a minute? The man who saved them is dying.”
“LAND HO!” announced the lookout again.
Tarrant spun on the doorway and began stomping out in a huff. He ascended the stairs to the deck of the hat. As he surfaced, the look of utter horror overtook his face. It wasn’t a call-girl made of mud and grass at all, but an island in the near distance. But it wasn’t the sliver of dry earth that caught his gaze. Nor was it the calling of the seagulls that invaded his ears and caused him pause. It was the distant sound of the carnival placed obviously on the shoreline. The flashing lights and whiff of cotton candy and corndogs were almost too intoxicating to bear. Tarrant’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest. “Oh. My. God. The Circus of Souls.” Tarrant took a minute to compose himself, fighting back his fears for his friend. He lit his cigar and puffed deeply to assuage his nerves. “I only hope they aren’t here for Nathan.”
