Dance Hall Days
an Aaaah! Real Monsters Fanfic
by Save Fearow
Author's Note: Warning for some more mature situations, nothing graphic. Here we're delving a little deeper into the backstory between Ickis' paternal grandparents. Brickis made the Army his entire career, although I think he showed more heroism when he -wasn't- following orders. Malvara became a homemaker after settling into the domestic scene, she had a different vocation once. Incidentally, burlesque has existed as a musical and theatrical style since the 1600's (think Francesco Berni's operas and Cervante's plays). It doesn't always have sexual or negative connotations, but it's usually considered more lower-class and unseemly in America as opposed to European nations. So the term would be tossed around occasionally in 1719, when New Orleans had only just been made the capital city.
Malvara hated her costume. Truth be told, she hated many aspects of her life, but wearing the silkworm veil was definitely up there on the list of annoyances. Some of the more obnoxious male clients would try and lick the worms off her face whenever she permitted them a dance. She wouldn't dance with -any- of those jerks if not for the fact that they WOULD pay toenails up front, and nothing was ever free in New Orleans. It was just as her Daddy had told her long ago, 'cash is king, without it you can't do a thing.' And Malvara did at least like her shaking her tail, although it would be nice if she could do that in a more respectable venue. She could live without respect from -other- monsters, as long as she still maintained a sense of self-worth. Some days it seemed like that was all she had.
Take today, for example. They hadn't even opened yet and she could still hear them clamoring outside the dance hall.
"Ya'll -betta- be gettin' ready! I wanna see that l'il mizzy swishin' an' a-swirlin'. I do declare, that's one fine female, yessuh! Always liked 'em pink, m'self." somebody hollered.
Malvara sighed. Pink was such a vulnerable shade. It was better than blue (primarily because she couldn't utilize all her vocal effects when she felt poorly), but it certainly didn't convey a sense of dignity or confidence. Her father had been the lucky one, changing colors whenever he pleased. Not that it had helped him any in the end... Malvara scowled. That -wasn't- a train of thought she liked to follow, and she REFUSED to beat herself up anymore over the past. This was what mattered to her now.
"Do mi so. So ti re. Re fa la. La do re. Mi so ti. Ti re fa. Fa la do. Do re mi fa so la ti do." Malvara practiced the same vocal routine she'd copied from the humans, cycling through 4 repetitions and 4 octaves. Just because they only expected her to wail and screech didn't mean she could ever afford to be off-pitch. The madam was kind enough to let her stay there, but such kindness only lasted as long as she earned her keep. Malvara adjusted the veil a final time, ensuring that the quills were completely covered, and flounced her way downstairs where she would stand among the other monster girls, looking sensitive and coquettish. Burlesque was all a lie anyway, so it didn't matter.
'It's 9 o'clock on a Saturday, the regular crowd shuffles in, there's a creepy monster watching me, I suffer his advance with chagrin.' Malvara hummed to herself.
"That's the one, Gen'ral Caligorn. Pointy ears, double-toes, swishy tail. Ain't she somethin' hidjus? Bes' lady in town, I wager." the loudmouth espoused.
"So you've tried her already? Not sure I want your cast-offs, Lieutenant." General Caligorn sneered.
Malvara's blood was boiling. They had alot of nerve, objectifying her and LYING about her. She'd seen (and heard) the booming Lieutenant several times. He showed up once or twice a month, hollered at her to 'gitcher tail down here mizzy' (and the first time he'd bellowed so loudly her left ear had -throbbed- for 2 days afterwards. It was a testament to her skills that she'd managed to perform her routine FLAWLESSLY even with that handicap.) She knew him in only a casual sense, because she had made sure to always, always turn down his offers for a dance, a drink, anything at all. But of course, he wouldn't tell his Army buddies the truth, oh no. Monsters were all alike in THAT regard.
"No suh. Ain't had the pleasure, an' I won't take none a'fore she's willin'. She got -gumption- that gal. Fella can 'preciate that from afar." the Lieutenant clarified.
Malvara was surprised but she didn't let it throw off her rhythm. The dance was always more important than the conversations the patrons had. She could always ignore -them- until somebody got tipsy enough to approach her, then she would be obligated to him for up to half an hour, then she would be her own monster again, richer in toenails and poorer in taste. If they were obviously lacking in finery she could try to pass them off on to another girl (although the Lieutentant always shook his ears at that point and vowed 'mebbe next time'.) For a real troublemaker, she was s'posed to summon the madam, who had the authority to remove anyone from the premises. Of course, she always turned around and fired the complaining dancer the next morning. Malvara had seen 3 such performers leave in that manner, all of them reduced to tears. The day might very well come when Malvara would have to leave in a similar fashion, but she knew there would always be a difference between her and the others. Malvara would NEVER cry.
"Hmm. As long as she's still cherry, I might just have a go." the General decided.
"Wud'na call her cherry, more'a dusty rose." the Lieutenant opined.
Malvara grimaced. Clearly, the General was going to be a difficult case. She glided over, mentally preparing for the worst.
"Pinky! Dancer girl! Shnookie!" General Caligorn roared.
Obviously, she had been -far- too optimistic. "I am NOT your Shnookie. Je suis seulement un danseur mais je me tiens à la grande estime. C'est plus que je peux dire au sujet de vous." Malvara responded.
General Caligorn whistled. "Fancy talk, that means you're already getting squishy!" he declared.
"No suh. I think the lady don't want none." the Lieutenant piped up.
"You weren't spoken to, Lieutenant." General Caligorn snapped.
"No suh. But you wuz. The l'il mizzy ain't ready fo' it, y'all should respect her wishes." insisted the Lieutenant.
"She doesn't have anything -to- respect." the General stated flatly. "But maybe after we have our session, I'll find something of value about her. That is, assuming she CAN perform." he gripped Malvara's wrist firmly and leered at her aggressively.
The Lieutenant sprang up angrily. "Gitcher paw off'a her!" he snarled.
"I am your commanding officer." the General threatened. "Stand down, soldier."
"No suh. I don't respect yuh enough fo' that." the Lieutenant replied. Malvara glanced around the dance hall. The crowd was watching them, but didn't seem inclined to do anything. Even the madam was content to wait it out. Malvara closed her eyes. She hated herself for it, but she knew she would sooner submit than beg for help.
"You're disobeying a direct order, and for what? This piece of tail? She's not worth it, Lieutenant." laughed General Caligorn.
"Y'all don't know whut she's worth!" countered the Lieutenant.
"If it's a matter of cost, I can loan you a few toenails so if there's anything left when I'm done-" the General began.
"I know yo' done!" snarled the Lieutenant. There was a sound Malvara hadn't anticipated but it reminded her of dripping blood. She opened her eyes again and caught sight of the maroon lieutenant, who was at least double the size she remembered him. He flung the General aside as though he were nothing, and then he raised a shovel-like paw. He lowered it smack-down on top of the offending officer's head. General Caligorn's helmet cracked in half. She s'posed that was all that kept his skull from doing lookwise. The Lieutenant glared at General Caligorn for a moment longer, then dusted off his paws. He shrank back down and turned to Malvara. "Y'alright, Miz?" he asked. Malvara nodded slowly, not trusting herself to speak.
Things had quieted down. Some of the other soldiers had carried the General away, and the madam had ushered all the patrons outside. Malvara had somehow found the nerve to ask about her job security. The madam had laughed, and told her that General Caligorn had paid at the door, which meant the night hadn't been a total loss. But Malvara could hear the warning edge in her employer's voice, she would never again be granted such leniency. As if that wasn't enough to consider, there was still the matter of the Lieutenant who stood ram-rod straight, less than a foot from the dance hall entrance. It was clear by his posture that he intended to stay all night, or until Malvara recognized him.
"You're- you're-" Malvara began. There were so many things she needed to say to him, that he was brave, thoughtful, dashing even. But for once, she couldn't think of an adequate response. It was so much easier dealing with monsters you despised.
"Lew-ten-ont Brickis, at yo' service." he drawled, bowing slightly. Brickis straightened up, frowning a little. "'Course I may not be a lew-ten-ont much longer, they might bust me back dooown to private fo' that. I'd do it again, if'n I had to, li'l mizzy."
"Malvara. And there's no need, it -won't- happen again." Malvara asserted, in an attempt to regain her compusure.
"Course not. I'd fend off -everythang- whut ever threatened yuh." Brickis responded, clearly missing the point.
Malvara sighed. "I appreciate what you've done, but it's over now Lieutenant." she insisted.
"Sho' nuff, place is closed fo' the night. We can always go somewhere else, if'n yuh wanted." Brickis offered.
"There is nowhere else." Malvara admitted sadly.
"But it's customary to walk a lady to her res'dence." Brickis put forth.
"Don't you understand? This -is- my residence. I sleep above the burlesque hall, -and- yes I sleep alone, so don't you DARE judge me for it!" snapped Malvara.
"Ain't right fo' a man to judge a lady, no suh. But yo' fatha is another story. He shouldna let his bonsty girl put herself in harm's way." Brickis protested.
"I have no father. Don't have a mother either. They burned to death, in a fire decades ago. I was lowest to the ground, it's the only reason I escaped." Malvara explained. She brushed the veil back briefly, permitting Brickis a glimpse of the singed marks on the tips of her quills.
Brickis lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry, Miz Malvara. Did- did humans come after y'all? That's whut got mine, a mob of Monster Hunn'ers. Cain't reason none wit' a crowd, running's the only option. Don't make me a coward none, no suh!" Brickis opined.
"Who would ever call -you- a coward?" Malvara wondered. "Whoever it was, they were wrong."
Brickis smiled at her. "Thank yuh kindly, mizzy. Sho' yuh don't wanna take in a few sights? N'Awlin's got alot good to offer, contrary to whatcha might'a been showed. Jus' need yo'self a betta guide." Brickis suggested.
"It's too soon." Malvara disagreed.
"Mebbe I come back later, then. City ain't going nowhere." he reasoned.
"I s'pose there's no stopping you, since you already know where I live." Malvara allowed.
"True that. All's yuh gotta do is say when, I'd come a-runnin'. Even when they got me stationed in Baton Rouge I STILL wud heed yo' call. That's some set'a lungs yuh got there, Miz Malvara." Brickis revealed.
"Thank you, Lieutenant. That means alot to me." Malvara responded.
"So it should. Y'all have every right to be proud. I bes' be off, Miz Malvara, but I trus' we'll meet again." Brickis turned and kissed her paw.
Malvara stared transfixedly at him for a moment, then recovered herself. "Of course. I haven't properly scolded you for that!" she hissed.
"I'm looking fo'ward to it." Brickis declared. To her surprise, Malvara found she was too.
"Au revoir, Lieutenant." Malvara told him as she headed back home.
"That's the best dismissal I've -ever- had." Brickis decided. "Au revoir, Miz Malvara."
~~~The End.
EPILOGUE
(one year later)
"I am impressed. Yuh sho' know how to grunge up a place mizzy, an' you do it wit' a bonsty un'erfoot no less." Brickis observed.
"Il est un enfant si insouciant." Malvara replied. "Slickis is no trouble at all. Hardly ever fusses."
"Cept when he wants his suppa. Yuh done et up all'a them beetle baguettes. I was savin' them fo' later." Brickis waggled a claw at his son. Slickis responded by trying to bite his father's paw.
"He's his father's boy. It's obvious Slickis will be a loomer... although, he has some camoflauge skills as well. I already caught him trying to turn his paws grey to match the pots and pans." Malvara recalled as she stirred the cockroach creole. Slickis looked up at his mother, the very picture of innocence.
"Jus' fine. We'll put you on recon duty, soljuh. How yuh like that?" Brickis offered. Slickis grinned and deftly shifted his fur to match Brickis' Army fatigues."Hey, Mally! Come see whut he's doin'!" Brickis called.
"I see that Slickis is distracting you, so he can drink from your canteen." Malvara noted.
Brickis frowned. "Whut? Hey, gimme that! Ain't right for a soljuh to be out of uniform!" Brickis admonished. Slickis swallowed the last gulps of pond scum before he returned the canteen to its proper owner.
Author's Note: It doesn't take long for Slickis to figure out what HE enjoys (and in the Academy he'll find something he enjoys -even- more.) This is probly why Slickis isn't the least bit surprised that Ickis continues to be mostly undaunted by Oblina rebuffing his courtship attempts. That sounds like a perfectly normal beginning to a romance as far as Slick knows. Having the girl notice first, the way Squelia did, seemed more unusual, not that Slickis was complaining about it. I do love how fiendishly cute all of Ickis' relatives were. Brickis resembles a cross between a rabbit and a mole, whereas Malvara has traits in common with both a kitty cat and a porcupine. I think those traits complimented them well. I also thought it might be nice to see what Granpa Brickis was like before the stress of too many extended tours of duty got to him. He served the Monster Army all the way up until the 1860's where I think he saw too much of humanity's worst aspects. Like Ickis, there's alot of tenderness within him (Brickis buries it deep dooown, but it's there) and he just couldn't reconcile some of what he saw on the Louisiana battlefields. Reviews are encouraged.