AN: First off, Yay! I'm writing madly again! Now that my life has begun to settle, I can focus on creative endeavors once more. The ideas are returning and my connection with my muses seems stronger than ever before. Hopefully I can get back into the habit of writing every single day. For now, I'm happy doing just this little bit.
This story came to me during my drive out to California a couple of weeks ago. I wasn't going to write it. After all, the subject could be seen as inflammatory or my intent could be misconstrued as mocking/insulting other author's stories. However, this is one of those things that wouldn't leave me alone until it was put out there for the rest of you to read. So, I wrote it tonight and am sharing it with you.
Please, do not take this as an insult to anyone. It is simply me exploring how two of the team might handle some religious types. That being said, I hope you enjoy yet another glimpse into the madness that invades my mind :)
"Oh, for crying out—" Duke growled under his breath and turned his back to the approaching humans. He'd seen their type before and tried avoiding them at all costs.
"What?" Wildwing changed direction to follow his teammate. They had just finished another long session with the artists and writers at Disney and were making their way through the crowded theme park to the parking lot.
"Wildwing! Duke!" An overly enthusiastic voice called.
Wildwing cringed, fearing Laura had found them again. No matter how hard they tried to avoid her, Phil's not-niece seemed to have a second sense about where they would be and when. Turning around, he saw a young woman with an older man.
"Keep walking," Duke muttered.
"Sorry, Duke," Wildwing stopped. "You know the contract with Disney."
The thief heaved an over exaggerated sigh and stopped with his arms crossed. "Don't know why we agreed to give free autographs and pictures to anyone while we're in the park in the first place. That was a stupid move."
Wildwing shrugged and gave his friend a commiserating look. He didn't like it any better than Duke did.
"Wow," the girl squealed as she drew closer. "It really is you!"
"Hello," the man offered a hand in greeting. "I'm Reverend Mawby and this is Blossom."
"Blossom?" Wildwing raised an eyebrow. "Interesting name." He shook his hand without registering the gesture.
"Says the guy named Wildwing," Duke's comment was so quiet it was lost to the noise of the passing crowd. "So," he spoke louder, "What'll it be? Photo or autograph?"
"My mother says I sprang from the earth like a beautiful flower," the young woman enthused, hopelessly staring at the unmasked goalie. "I brought joy to her life like crocus' after a late snow, so she named me Blossom." She kept twisting from side to side, making her long skirt sway against her legs.
"Uh-huh." Wildwing nodded once. "Well, it's a pretty name. Um- we're kind of busy. Is there something you wanted?"
"Actually, I have something for you." Reverend Mawby reached into the inner pocket of his blazer and retrieved a small pamphlet.
"Not interested." Duke turned around to walk off, only to be stopped by Wildwing catching his elbow and pulling him back.
"Have you heard the Great News?" The dark haired human asked, earnestness shining through his hazel eyes.
"Many times," Wildwing nodded. "And my answer is the same. You are welcome to your religious beliefs. I believe what I believe and some Earth book isn't going to change my mind."
"Oh, but you must listen!" the girl leaped forward, grabbing the lapels of Wildwing's jacket and gazing up at him "You're the chosen one, sent from the great beyond to save humanity."
"Oh, this is good." A smile spread across Duke's face as he suddenly became interested in what these two had to say.
"No, I'm not." Wildwing gently pried her off and took a step back. "I'm just a goalie from another universe."
"Don't sell yourself short, Wing," Duke teased. "You do want to save humanity, don't you?"
"You see," Revered Mawby continued as he wrapped an arm around Blossom's shoulders in an effort to hold her back. "We're from the Church of Titural- He who first bore the Holy Grail and foretells the return of our Great King."
"Uh-huh." Now it was Wildwing who stood with arms crossed while Duke tried to hide his smile.
"And the Great King shall return to us from a far off land, clad in white armor and bearing the Golden Relic," Blossom quoted. "You wear white armor and have a golden mask. It must be a great relic where you come from."
Duke's smile vanished.
"It's a hockey mask," Wildwing evaded. "The color doesn't make it special."
"We were hoping you might attend one of our services," the good reverend invited. "We meet every Sunday morning at the church on Aldene Court. It would be a great honor to have the reborn Great King attend."
"Thank you, but no." Duke shook his head.
"I appreciate the offer." Wildwing tried to be gracious while thoroughly shutting down their strange ideas. "But, I'm not the reincarnation of Tit-ral or whoever it is in your book. Like I said earlier, we've got to be somewhere soon. Have a nice day."
With that, he and Duke again headed towards the parking lot.
"Wait!" Blossom begged.
Wildwing closed his eyes in frustration and took a deep breath before turning to face her once more.
"Can I at least get an autograph?" She held out a well read book, the orange cover torn and bent. The Holy Revelation of Titural was emblazoned in gold across the top.
"Sure." Wildwing took the book and reached into his pocket for the marker he always carried whenever visiting Disneyland. He scribbled his name and handed it back to her.
She took in the mess of sharp peaks and jagged lines, trying do discern his name.
"That's how you can tell his signature from the faked ones," Duke said. "If he wrote it, you can't read it."
"Oh. Okay." She looked at the signature once more before offering the book to Duke. "You too?"
"Sure thing, doll." He took the book and held his hand out towards Wildwing, asking to borrow the marker. When Wildwing handed it to him, he signed his name left handed as well. His signature looped over itself artistically, resembling a piece of calligraphy. He capped the marker and handed it back to Wildwing with one hand while offering the book back with the other.
"Show off," Wildwing teased.
"Maybe someone just needs to practice his penmanship," he snarked right back.
"Thank you." Blossom hugged the book to her chest.
"If you change your mind," Reverend Mawby held out the pamphlet again. "My phone number is on there. I'm always available for spiritual and life advice, especially to you and your team."
Wildwing took the paper with a nod. "I'll keep that in mind." Never mind the fact that Grin pretty much filled the same role and he trusted him far more than this strange human. "Have a nice day."
"And a blessed return to you, Great King!" Blossom called out, waving enthusiastically.
Wildwing readily followed Duke's lead when the former thief turned a corner into a gift shop and took an alternate route to the parking lot. He didn't have to ask to know that they were evading the strange humans. At least in Disnelyand, they could vanish amongst all the costumed employees and cutouts of cartoon characters.
"Well, that was something," Duke laughed once they reached their motorcycles. "You're gonna save the planet singlehandedly!"
"Yeah," Wildwing laughed too. "It's almost scary how accurate what they were saying was. I mean, we do come from pretty far away."
"Somehow, I doubt the Mask of Drake DuCaine's famous enough for the legends to have reached a backwater planet like this one in an isolated universe."
"True." Wildwing swung a leg over his bike and got comfortable. "I've never asked what you believe, spiritually." The topic had never come up before and it wasn't something he thought about often enough for it to matter.
"Not much, really." Duke strapped on his helmet. "Course, I always paid my respects to Kalora before a heist, since she's supposed to look out for us roguish types."
"Did it work?"
"Who's to say? Never got caught. Then again, that's skill as much as some minor goddess' influence. What about you? Who'd you worship, oh mighty one?"
"Hm. A few years ago, I'd have probably said Yalda. Now? I don't have much faith anymore."
"Yeah, I can see that." After all, how could a mother who loved her children allow something as terrible as the Saurians to return? "So, home?"
"Sounds good."
With that, they sped back to the Pond.