This is a pointless one shot I made after practicing my archery, going to my dance lessons, practicing for my recital which I think is in June (gonna be doing Be Italian from the movie Nine!), and watching about three disks of Inuyasha season 6. Almost finished that. And I do think...yep, I have three or four fanfiction ideas for Inuyasha... Who cares? Probably no one.
Anywho, I'd greatly appreciate a few reviews.
Though it is uncomfortably hot on the planet Deresan, a certain familiar hero finds it quite relaxing. Being a Lombax, he feels comfortable in the planet's natural desert climate, seeing as it is his species' natural environment. This familiar Lombax turns out to be a universally known hero by the name of Ratchet Nebula. The residents, yet to identify him, only see him as an off-planet tourist thus far. It provides him with a more peaceful environment for relaxing and just thinking. He is not often one to ponder, but at the moment he finds the need to.
For once in over half a decade, Ratchet is seen again without his robotic companion, Clank. About three weeks prior, Sigmund had contacted Clank, panicked, saying there were major problems at the Great Clock, and only Clank could fix those problems. As a result, Clank had gone to assist Sigmund, telling Ratchet that he would return as soon as everything had been finished. During Clank's indeterminable absence, Ratchet had taken the opportunity to return to all of the places he had been to in his previous adventures: Veldin, Pokitaru, Cobalia, Mukow, Fastoon…Toren IV…
After having visited every planet, moon, and asteroid on his charts – while collecting a few lost Zoni along the way and making a note to return them next time he was at the Great Clock – he did not return home. He instead decided to do a little exploring of the many worlds he had so far left alone and unexplored by him. The first had been quite dangerous, crawling with Leviathans, space pirates, and all sorts of nasty creatures that would kill him without a second thought. The second and previous planet, held nothing of interest. It had been but a desolate marshland, infested with bugs and a few small reptiles. It is at his current location, Planet Deresan, where our story begins.
Ratchet finds himself in the busy market of a fairly large and diverse town. The golden Lombax takes everything in from the brilliant colors and ancient architecture to the loud clamor and strong smells both sweet and sour. The town itself seems to be something pulled straight out of Arabian Nights. The buildings, tall and close together, are the color of wet sand, roofs flat. Merchants stand under colorful awnings, eagerly trying to catch the attention of potential buyers. Children gallivant about, playing, while adults mill about, either searching or buying something that had caught their eyes. In the distance, at the center of the town, a large white and gold castle-like structure looms above all of the other buildings. The hustle and bustle of the market continues on, unbroken, uninterrupted. Until…
"Stop, thief!" a rough voice demands in a loud shout. At the mention of a thief, Ratchet turns. A small child flees from a merchant, easily outrunning the much larger man. The child moves too fast for Ratchet to tell its species, but he catches a glimpse of a slightly off-white and coal black. The young one weaves this way and that to avoid carts, people, animals, and such as the merchant struggles to keep pace.
The merchant stops near Ratchet, bending forward to catch his breath. "Nasty little brat," he snarls, glaring after the child. Not noticing that someone is actually listening to his banter, he continues, "Filthy rat's been a-stealin' me apples again! Can't take it no more. Someone ought to do somethin' 'bout it. I say the Guardians ought to lock him up in the dungeon!" He straightens, his back cracking a few times.
"How long has he been a problem?" Ratchet asks, now catching the merchant's attention.
"'Bout five'r six years'r so," the merchant replies after shaking himself out of his surprise. "That darn kit is always stealin' me apples." He shakes his head in disgust. "Once I catch him, he'll wish he ne'er set eye on me apples, I swear ta Allah on that!"
"Now, there's no need for that," Ratchet says quickly, not wanting any young one to be hurt for such a simple thing. He then glances at the merchant. "How 'bout this: I'll pay for all the apples he has stolen in the past six months."
The merchant looks at Ratchet incredulously. "You'd do that? Fer a thief?"
The Lombax shrugs absently, staring now at the alley the child had used as its escape route. "He's a street-kid. Probably starving out there with no home or family. He can't get a decent thing to eat on his own, so he steals to survive." I can relate, after all, he added silently. Without much ado about it, he pays the merchant, easily able to tell he had paid high over the actual cost, but not actually caring. Curiosity and some invisible nagging force spurring his actions, he follows the child's trail at a lively pace.
Tracking the young thief turns out to be easy; the child had left deep tracks in his flight, not bothering to cover them in his rush to escape the angry apple-seller. A ten minute walk later, the tracks become shallower, indicating that the thief had slowed his pace. Judging by the shifting of the sand, the tracks are quite fresh.
"Li nan oke." Ratchet stops to listen to the sudden voice. "Pa enkyete yo, mwen pa pral fè ou mal." The pitch of the foreign words denote a young person, a boy. He follows the tracks until they turn sharply to the left. Peering around the corner, he catches a glimpse of two child-sized figures.
A hand holds out a likely stolen apple out to the other, a very young Novalian girl. She seems frightened, but slowly relaxes as the other continues to speak in a soft voice. "Ou ka genyen li," he continues. "Mwen pa reyèlman bezwen li tout ki anpil. Ale sou. Li nan oke." Slowly, the girl reaches for the bright red apple, snatching it away from him the second her hand touches it. A small chuckle is heard from the other.
"Ashica!" a harsh voice calls out suddenly. The girl turns her head towards the voice. "Kote ye ou? Jwenn plis pase isit la, lari-sourit!" She stiffens, dropping the apple, and hurries away. After a few moments, the hand picks up the fallen apple, a quiet sigh escaping the owner of that hand.
"I wish I could do more for you, Ashica…" Ratchet blinks. Could this be the thief he had been tracking just moments ago? The child seems so kind. It's possible. Not very likely, but possible. In the quiet stillness, the wind picks up stirs up the dust. Try as he might, Ratchet cannot help but sneeze. Swift footsteps recede from the area at the sound. Ratchet rushes around the corner, but there is no sign of the thief.
Okay... I think I lied. I kinda like this actually. Gives me something for when I'm bored and have writer's standstill. Hope you enjoyed this little fling. The alternate language I used was Google Translate's version of Haitian Creole. I'd like some reviews, and who knows? This may turn into a full-fledged story. Review please? Thank you! And good day :)
EDIT 11-9-14: Hey guys! Look what I did! I edited this finally! Hopefully it's a bit less awkward than it originally was. I changed a few minor details, but nothing major has changed. I'm going to continue editing, so the chapters I've edited will be properly named instead of just being numbered.
Thanks for reading (again)!
~Foenix Nightshade~
