And if you need a real cheap incentive to read & review umm... yes, I made Ari into a slobbering drunk.. XD (haha, j/k- I didn't make this stupid like that, I swear to god.) But he is kinda OOC with the drunkenness here, so errmmm... yesh, enjoy that.. XD.
Pause for Disclaimer--
This literary work of fanfiction belongs to its author and may not be used for profit without the notified permission of the specified author. The characters, settings, references and given background mentioned, and, or depicted, aside from the happenings of the plot itself, is the property of the following- Archie Comics, SEGA Corporation and DiC Productions and any other organizations not mentioned in these listings possessing ownership of property that is related to Sonic the Hedgehog. All other terms stated in Title 17 of the U.S. Code concerning copyright laws apply.
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SatAM
The Third Season
- - -
Part One
Post-Doomsday
- Firework Fanfare & Crescendo -
by
Alexandra Lee Churchill
aka
Winnie C. Hedgehog
"It began in mystery, and it will end in mystery, but what a savage and beautiful country lies in
between."
-Diane Ackerman, A Natural History of the Senses.
"Why wilderness? Because we like the taste of freedom; because we like the smell of danger."
-Edward Abbey, Beyond the Wall
"We can't run from ourselves, our destiny chooses us."
-Professor Petrovsky, Rounders.
Post-Doomsday
- Firework Fanfare & Crescendo -
"You can learn little from victory. You can learn everything from defeat."
-Christy Mathewson
Electrified cracks and fizzes, shrieking whirs and spastic lights and the resonant, earth-quaking tremors beneath the vibrant, myriad explosions from the firework display overhead- it all left the midnight darkness awake and trembling. Victorious roars, cries, howls and triumphant cheering beside commending hoorahs could be heard throughout the festive and massively-overcrowded Knothole square.
There was the haze of thriving enthusiasm that had enlivened the entire village- a celebratory miasma of intoxicating heaviness and permeating strength. Laughing, chanting, feasting and drinking, dancing, singing and carefree chat- everything that had been for too-long dismissed for more important matters- they reveled in tonight.
They felt the dazed, contented sense of finally living some long-sought dream that they could only have barely envisioned some months ago; the slow realization that their dream had been realized.
It had been their united dream, the ultimate dream. An eleven year old dream- the freeing of Mobius from under the ruling dictatorship, that maniacal tyrant who had held Robotropolis, their former beloved capital city Mobotropolis, and all of Mobius for over ten years. The outlandish enemy, the human, Julian, had downtrodden and brutalized the Mobians for over a decade.
Now he lay under the smoking ruins of his dark and sinister Robotropolis.
And the brave new world lay ahead for them to reclaim as theirs.
But for tonight, Knothole, small and humble hosted hundreds for the celebrations.
They had come from every corner, from every nook and cranny, unexpected and unbelievable. Mobians, freedom fighters, the hardened veterans and the younger furlings, from every species and every path of life came trundling down the dirt paths and overgrown roads of the Great Forest to the Knothole celebrations and had gathered in their humble square.
Throughout the bustling festivities, they felt themselves dazedly moving through the scene as if they were happily sickened and saturated by the drowsy sweetness of their mutual dream. They danced and drank and set off snapping firecrackers and confetti poppers that mingled the flickering bursts from the firework display overhead with short spurts of colored bits of flapping confetti paper scattered in disarray. They stomped their feet and danced and rejoiced by the ever-burning firelight.
Old former guerilla soldiers swayed together on log benches, reveling in memories, garbling their old campfire songs and simply speaking drunken jargon for some. They clanged their cups together filled to the brim frothing with barely beer and sat sprawled and drooling, sleeping over the laps of others. The otherwise formal and reserved Ari guffawed among them, guzzling his beer. By the empty plot, Mobians rounded and danced carelessly by the fires to old folksongs with half-forgotten lyrics and only the familiar tune to guide their steps.
"Mah deah, I do declare, you got the feet of a natural-born dancer!" Bunnie threw over her shoulder to Dulcy. Her fair, straw-colored hair hung loose and disheveled and she had a sassy glint in her eye, as she linked arms with a sniggering possum.
"Hehehee!" Dulcy chortled in glee. "Hey thanks, Bunnie!" she called back, showing an immense white-fanged grin and unknowingly flinging her small partner in an arm swing, flailing and shouting into a nearby shrubbery. She skipped thoughtlessly outside of the ring. Unexpectedly, her foot caught under one of the sitting logs and she tumbled forward. Trying to regain balance in rhythm to the tune, she wobbled with the sway of the dancing crowd, swung in arms and sidled into shifting partners until she was so dizzy she knew nothing but moving circles and shouts. The dragon tottered on hind claws directly towards a score of hanging lanterns. "Yaaaahhh!!"
Her head clanged noisily on the metal and the flame gurgled in the lantern, creaking and rocking as Dulcy collapsed exhausted on the ground, her perplexed, juvenile tone wavering, "Geeeeeee.. I'm home, Maaaaa..."
Even the bonfires raged and roared in a volatile, triumphant flame. Between the blazing shadows, members of the Wolf Pack and those others that had habituated and traveled from the Great Unknown's deserted, canyon trails could be seen chanting and yowling riotously in praise to gods from the old religions and the natural forces of fate that had finally turned in their favor. They danced to the festive crackling, the heavy, hovering dance of the flames, inducing their senses with the burnt, intoxicating smells roasting up like heavy incense, stomping their bare feet by the piled twigs and debris set ablaze.
Bonfires had been situated in dug pits of charred logs and coal like volatile, enflamed pits. They simmered and scorched the earth and bit the ankles of their jerking steps. Lupe, shrewd and aged sat on a log recessed in shadow, her attentive features aglow with the dim, beating firelight. She contemplated her companions and blood-brothers as they beat the earth with their feet and faced the nightly darkness without fear, as they had once been in the old times. She sat entranced by the smoldering embers and flicker of sparks though her every fiber strained and quivered in tense anticipation and her voice ached for a wolf's nightly wail.
Suddenly the cracked yammer from a coyote shot upward through the resounding noise of beating dance and drum and everything fell hushed in the reach of its echo. Secondly, thirdly, fourthly, the group raised their voices in howls and yelps and moans and cries and everything else that thrashed and struggled primal inside themselves that they needed to grant expression.
Lupe, the wolf leader stepped forward to answer the call at the blazing inferno from the swathing shadows among her brethren. She arched her neck so her graying, raven mane snarled in its golden-ringed bands, draped down her back and allowed that age-old, grief-stricken ache from war and loss inside of her to finally sound into the openness of the star-strewn sky and lift from her old and wise spirit.
The surrounding Mobians in the main of the square raised voices in praise, eulogizing chatter and commending chants resounded over the grounds; light-hearted babble and chat traveled effervescent through the casual, interchanging circles between the crowds.
And there could be nothing more exciting to talk about and share with each other than their separate first-hand experiences from having partaken in the Doomsday-Prevention Mission. Dialogue ignited and sputtered out easily as firecrackers by the flammable, erratic spark of cheer and frenzied gossip and it caught the throngs by storm.
"I couldn't believe my eyes! It was astronomical!"
"Some supernatural effect... I dunno.."
"Did you see them-?"
"Naw, man, I'd been in the Sector Two Squadron..."
"It finally pays off, I always say..."
"...so much like that human..."
"Well, that final spectacle was quite a show, ey?"
"Pfft.. SWATbot defenders my tail. Yuh take one appendage, they all go down on ya like a ton uh bricks.."
"Oh.. naw, naw, naw, sir..."
"...its that dominoe effect, y' see.."
"Did'ja see that platoon lineup of SWATs? Jarek almost pissed himself.."
"Haaahhh.. poor guy.."
"Where'd yah see him last-?"
"Hey! Ha-HA! Hey, how 'bout another round over here, 'ey!?"
"You drive an M-8 into a fortress wall... KA-BLAMMY!"
"It was one of these..." an inquisitive Uncle Chuck rasped, acknowledged the drooped metal-eating balloon that lay flat and deflated on Rotor's open palm for his interested inspection. The solitary two stood afar from most of the packed crowds, along the darker skirts of the village, inspecting the rubbish for left-over ammo and mechanical articles.
The aging scientist accepted it and turned the floppy, green elastic sack over in his deft hands. A slight metallic ooze slipped from the tear. "I've never encountered such a substance before..."
His lab-partner was only all too willing to lecture on it; he began to ramble eagerly, "See, its some strange kinda substance we uncovered near the river divide and the more tepid regions of the Great Jungle. Some of the flowering plant life there stored it in their pistils and then ejected it from the style when they sensed danger. It's got some unexplained chemical properties that I'm really hard-set on researching further, but I-I'm guessing it was developed by the means of quick and desperate evolution to ward off Robotnik's development of the land using mineral ore and robotics. It's a defense mechanism."
"Certainly, it's a wonder.." the scientist sighed, observing it in quiet awe. "These came in pretty handy, I'm sure."
"Its even better to see 'em in action..." Rotor reached into the back pocket of his dragging overalls, rummaged through and pulled out a single, full balloon by the tie. It rocked in his grip, engorged with the mysterious, pollen-yellow, glutinous substance.
Their last metal-eating balloon; the single prototype model he had kept for himself. He looked on it favorably.
"I was thinking I'd save it for research, but..." Examining the bloated sack in his hand, the small traces of a smile eased over his features and his slight, watery eyes glazed warmly in the dim firelight. His voice dropped to a low murmur, "I guess we won't be needing these anymore.."
Without further ado, the mechanic rocked back on his foot and flung the green sack toward a nearby small, disorderly stack of dented and warped metal plating. The balloon burst upon impact and the yellow, mucous-like fluid splashed over the debris, hissing, sputtering and spitting nastily until all metallic material dissolved away and evaporated into a consecutive surging gust of greenish, pollinated smog.
The old inventor narrowed his eyes; gray, worn metallic forehead dented into a furrow and he beamed at the destructive results.
"And I'll be long gone from this world before I ever need see another used again!" exclaimed Chuck, giving the adolescent walrus a hearty clap on the back, guffawing.
Beyond them, near the dancing throngs and the drunks guzzling barley beer, the Acorn guard, Antoine relayed his own version of an epic tale of valor and struggle in the Doomsday mission to a detached group of bored stragglers. "..and at last... I 'ad believed I 'ad seen zee worst ... I 'ad seen ze life flashing before my very eyes..." Antoine shouted in stressing importance, striking theatrical poises atop a flattened stone stand. The guard withdrew his weapon and the steely rasp of a sword being unsheathed sounded into the quiet. He ruffled himself into a dramatic posture.
"So I says HA! to you and au revoir!" Antoine flailed the sword frantically, steel whispering in its slicing of the air, when the clumsy guard lost his footing and fell, ungainly, face-first for the dirt.
The small, surrounding pack of foxes broke into crude, yammering fits of laughter and drunken chortles and turned to move on, leaving their storyteller sputtering incoherent French cursing and dirt from his mouth and brushing off the staining grime from his elegant white and golden ceremonial suit and the now disheveled toupee he had greased into shining gold.
His head cocked up as a brassy female voice began squalling a patriotic song from a circle nearby. The French guard began to snivel. "Oh... sacre bleu.. it eez ze hymne zat zey played at ze court..." He drew from tucked in his breast pocket a small, fringed handkerchief and started to promptly dab his eyes delicately. "Zis I listened to as a small boy in ze courts. It eez wonderful, no?" The coyote blew his nose unexpectedly, making a distinctly crude, blaring noise.
Suddenly, a skirling, glaring orange firecracker detonated, searing through the darkness overhead; the signal for a finale. It sent the crowds hustling and jostling under the hum of excited chatter down through the roads and dirt paths of the village to the square, magnetized to the central stage of their celebrations- the briefing platform to praise and cheer their two figurehead leaders among the freedom fighters- their Princess of Mobius and their speedy, blue idol.
Time circled and turned on itself in this place; hours passed disregarded; the excitement was palpable; it could be breathed in and inhaled and was intoxicating for certain. Sally let her eyes skim over the scene, drinking in this feeling, letting it seep and soak into every pore of her body. She took the moment to give the heavy exhale of relief that she had never before been granted the time to do, like she could feel the responsibilities and burdens that had weighed her down these ten years- ten years of hurt, expectations, betrayals, missions, scrutinized planning, goal-setting, fears and doubts, everything, release from the tension in her muscles, the strain in her posture and raise her up to this view that brought visions to her eyes unlike anything she had ever seen here in this familiar place. The platform view encompassed every bit of the square and their bustling festivities. Shifting through the crammed square, she could see the familiar faces of friends and companions- Bunnie, Lupe, Rotor, Antoine, Ari, Sir Charles, even Dulcy as the preteen dragon seemed ungainly in weight and size in a sea of Mobians who stood at three feet high, at most. She dwarfed those who stood in her shadow. She could see the mirth and genuine cheer in their eyes and hear it in their chanting outcries and the sight of it nearly brought her to tears.
They are free. I am free.
The younger furlings bounced and scampered in fits of giggles, overtaken by their infectious giddiness. They groped the air with their pudgy fingers and claws, trying to grab the sparks and burning embers that scattered the grounds. She could see the young fox kit Tails frisk and caper and yelp in delight, trying desperately to catch the fiery red sparks that jittered and quavered and danced down in blazing trails like outrageous fireflies that seared fiercely through the darkness just to evaporate into drifting, sizzling particles of bronze and scarlet dust. Though the embers trembled then sputtered into quick extinguishment by the touch of their groping fingers, the furlings held the trembling flares cupped in their palms for that momentary joy. She tried to catch Tails mingled in the huddle of young ones and the exposing, scurrying flicker between light and shadow showed the genuine thrill beaming on his face.
A new line of sparklers were ignited and skirled elegantly in a smoking, flashing flurry, silhouetted ghosts of light impaling the skies, sent spewed and whistling into the night. A few distant winks wavered in the nightly darkness and within seconds of subsequent nothingness dissolved with an otherworldly thunder into a brilliant, white cascading of glimmering ethereal light falling in shrouded, heavenly trails of ashen mist and dust.
Maybe it was the ecstatic distortion of flickering light and the explosive noise and her own disoriented, elated feeling of euphoria that emphasized every celebratory sensation, that exposed the satisfied, amiable gaze from the slick, cobalt-quilled hero standing at her side. They stood together basking in praise in their moment of triumph and the electrifying ambiance and on the edge of some beginning that made her tremble in excitement at the unknown standing before them.
She felt an uncontainable thrill rise up in her like the godlike bellows could quake and crack and deface the earth, as if the simmering, electrified sting of ignition in the air could slice the air in two, like the firework crescendo could trundle down the stars. She let out a hearty laugh in spite of herself, turning to Sonic bearing a triumphant, regal smile. She caught his gaze; her heart skipped in place.
That amiable gaze. Something so unlike the trademark toothy grin and he meant it for her. She held herself paralyzed by the strong meaning of that gaze as if she beheld something precious like the glimpse of a falling star.
Sonic leaned in and murmured something to her under his breath. His warm breath brushing up to her ear made the chestnut fur on her neck bristle and the enticing sensation trickled down the middle of her back, but in the thunderous echoes and stroboscopic flash of light she could barely hear him nor mouth the words of what he said or maybe she did, but she could hardly believe it, provoking sentiments she was unsure to voice.
"Sonic, what?" She laughed heartily, almost shouting, "I can't hear you!"
Her freedom fighter companion beamed his dashing pearly-white smile and rolled his eyes and shouted something back that was drowned out.
Sally started to shout something back, the laugh hesitant, "Sonic, I can't-" Without warning, the blue hero whisked his princess up into his arms again and dove his mouth onto hers, gagging anything she could have said. By the magnetism of the Power Stones, she felt the power thrumming on her skin, flaring her fur and tingling in every pore of her body, surging by electrifying courses that seared her veins and into her mind. He knotted his fingers in a quaking, unrelenting fist in her hair. He felt it too. She knew that a dim, purplish phosphorescence radiated from their conjoined bodies as astonished, wordless sounds from on-looking spectators washed over the stage.
Eyes closed, head tilted upwards, explosive noise drowning out everything else to hear, celebratory cheers and hollers and delighted cries, the firecrackers and the euphoric celebration electrifying the air, the dazzling scintilla infused with soft light stunning the air all around and the firework crescendo exploding overhead, she tightened her grip, entwined arms encircling his neck, in a fierce, desperate passion, and wordless plead for him to taste her, taste her rapture, taste her devotion, to taste the fierce tenderness in their kiss, taste the words that she could not otherwise have dared to say.
To feel the rhythmic heartbeat pounding in her chest and to know, just to know, the truth between the beats.
Bedazzled by the vivid myriad explosion of color, light and sound, the celebrating swarms below erupted into uproar; their enthusiasm could not be contained. She heard the dynamic shouting that rose to a unified chant that reverberated from the village and struck the solid core to the trees and rustled in every leaf and rocked the ground with their stamping as if they put all their hearts and beings into this one cry.
In their united chant, they demanded, "Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! Freedom..!"
- - -
"Maybe we oughta just leave this till tomorrow, Sally," Rotor offered, tossing a metal article with a tinny clang to the littered grounds, regarding the collapsed banners, discarded confetti bits and firecracker debris now strewn over the emptied square. "Its gonna take a good couple hours to clear up anyway..."
The small group of freedom fighters, worn out and heavy-eyed, turned to traipse together from the square down the dirt paths to their respective huts. Everyone else had fallen in for the night and the other travelers had deserted the place and they stood in the middle of the ruins and scattered debris of what had become a night to remember.
The walrus reached up from being crouched on bent knees from the ground, wrenched his arms back to stretch and wiped his beaded brow beneath the brim of his bright-yellow cap. He murmured, "Never thought I'd actually be tired enough to want to sleep."
Bunnie, her fair cowlick uncombed and one ear folded over her drowsy eye dragged her feet to stand beside them. She smothered a yawn behind her hand, but the second escaped between her cupped fingers, "Good golly, Ah'm about ready to hit the sack. How 'bout y'all?"
"Ahhh.. oui, oui, yes... sleep is to be a good zing..." Antoine agreed with a sigh, lagging alongside them.
"Aww.. do we have to go to bed yet?" Tails moaned plaintively, handful of confetti in his small grasp and bouncing by their side, chipper and eager for excitement as ever.
The blue hedgehog laughed and ruffled the young kit's already scruffy auburn bangs, "There's a reason why we've got those curfews, buddy." The boy gave the scene one final doleful gaze over his shoulder, but nonetheless trotted before them obediently down the same, beaten dirt road.
"I thought this day would never come..." Sally spoke hardly above a bewildered murmur.
Bunnie stepped beside her, yawning still, her southern slur thick as honey muddling her speech. "Well, we got plenty uh time to revel in it, sweetie-pie, enough time to have it wait till the sun's risin' tomorrow.."
Rotor said, "Now I think we all just need to get some good shut-eye."
"Hah, dahlin' y'all are preachin' to the choir!" Bunnie chirped drowsily after them. Sally stopped in her tracks, falling behind the rest. Uncertain, bewildered thoughts droned in her mind.
Her girl friend drew back to her, gingerly egging her down to the huts.
"Yeah, but you just get yurself some beauty rest, honey." She coupled arms with her girlfriend and patted her reassuringly, "It'll be all there in the mornin' ready for the takin'."
"Haha, you bet!" Sonic beamed, having that smile eager and raring to go. "Its just the brave new world out there now, ready to be had!"
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Antoine's Dialogue Translation
1) "hymne"- anthem
Thanks SO, so, so much for putting up with my constantly extended-deadlines, but I promise to do much better. This is rather short, but it sets the stage for SatAM S3 and is sort of a short bitty recap for those who forgot the finale with my own little twists (Ari being drunk for one, XD). Anyhow, reviews are always appreciated and I'm going to make it a dedication to the readers who do leave reviews to respond back promptly saying thanks and even review one of your pieces in exchange because, well, I think its only fair :).
Check in for the next more formidable installment- Lord Snively and the AndrOmecha Factor near the end of August!
Happy writing!
---Winnie