Danyal Herder
Dark God Makou
(Note by the author: This series is going to be intertwined with Makou's "A Fine Mess." The first few chapters of this story won't have anything to do with her story, but they will soon. In any event, do yourselves a favor and read her story so far. It rocks. Oh, and please review this upon completion. I'm always looking for other people's opinions :)
The First Gig
Through the early morning fog a massive airship plowed through the sky with little difficulty. It's massive engine was burning at full power in the rear of the ship, and the beautiful painted colors on the surface of the craft were beginning to shine against the glow of the rising sun. It was the airship flying for several miles, as hardly anyone wished to operate such a huge vehicle at such an early time of the day.
The cockpit of the ship seemed to be unable to be fatigued, however. The burly, middle-aged humanoid gritted his teeth as he piloted the ship through the air. Finally getting through the minor turbulence, he sat back in his chair. He unbuttoned the bright blue vest adorned on his chest and relaxed, letting his stomach rest on his legs. He blew his wisps of hair out of his face, and he reached around to see if he could find any cigarettes to smoke. He cursed as he found he was out. He rose from his seat with a grunt, and grabbed a horn of some sort that had wires running through it.
"Hey, this yer captain speakin!" He bellowed with great ferocity. He waited a few seconds, as he imagined his crew was getting their act together from the force of the shout. Finally he resumed.
"Alright, boys and grrls, today's the big day. It's our first performance ever, and I don't want no errors! That means you're gettin' off yer fannies this second and rehearsing from now until the performance tonight. Any slip-ups tonight and you're getting a beatin'...Except for the ladies, who won't get no dinner for a week!"
He slammed the horn back, only to remember that he had forgotten one crucial part of his motivational speech. He grabbed it again.
"Oh yeah, and someone bring me a pack of smokes."
He sat back down in his seat, resuming his flight. Only a few seconds had elapsed before the door was burst through furiously by a tall human with a dark complexion. His clothes had been thrown on hurriedly and a nightcap still rested on his head. He strode up to his captain and handed him a small package.
"Here are your cigarettes, Captain Jonathon."
The hairy hand reached out of the captain's seat and grabbed them greedily. John lit one up as fast as he could, enjoying the burst of calmness he experienced.
"Thank ye, Syovar. I knew I could count on me main man."
Syovar saluted instantly. "Thank you, sir."
"For God's sake, you can easy on all that stuff. I was just playin' hardball with the rest of `em. Truth is, I'm just as nervous as they are."
Sensing his worry, Syovar relaxed. "Look, John, we're gonna do great tonight. The people of Burmecia are gonna be so wrapped about the new grandchild of the king that they'll hardly even care about our show."
"Stick it up yer blowhole, Wyvern. King Puck smacked down quite a bit of Gil, more than enough to show that he cares."
"Yeah, but..."
"Besides, no one's seen Tantalus perform for 50 years! That's quite a bit o'pressure people'll be puttin' on us."
Syovar rested his hand on John's shoulder. "Don't worry, John. It'll be alright. I'm sure we'll do great. After all," He flashed his perfect smile. "I've got the lead role. What could go wrong?"
Before John could reply the door opened and a cat-like humanoid girl burst in, panting hard. She rested her paws on her knees before leaping her slender body in front of the captain and holding a container in her hands.
"Your cigarettes, sir!" She saluted, and broke into laughter.
John took the pack and shoved it in his pocket. "Don't see what's so fun about a pack of smokes, girl."
"Aw, come on, captain! It's the start of a new age!" The girl planted her rear on the armrest of the chair. "It's the revival of Tantalus! The resurging of a golden era! The rebirth of times long forgotten! A renaissance! A resurgence! A..."
"Pika?" Syovar said calmly.
The girl cocked her head to his side. "Yeah, Syovar?"
"Kindly shut up!" He sneered.
Pika snuffed and folded her arms. "I'm simply trying to create a pleasant mood for our captain! Sorry!!!" She proceeded to stick her tongue out at Syovar, and stormed out of the room in a fury.
John stared at her as she departed, and glanced back at his second-in-command.
"We're doomed."
Behind the captain's room of the ship lay the storage rooms, where countless props and costumes had been strewn about in no particular order. Next to those rooms were two rooms. One was another storage room made specifically for the band; On the opposite side was the band's practicing center. At the moment the two dozen or so musicians were scrambling to get their instruments while a Genome of average height stood impatiently. He was fully clad in conductor gear, as he had been awake for two entire hours.
After several minutes of waiting, he finally stomped his foot on the ground.
"That's enough, you nincompoops! We are going to rehearse now, whether you've got your instruments or not!"
Silence ensued for several seconds before a timid young trumpeter piped up. "But, Conductor Amadeus, not all of us are quite ready..."
"I don't care!" Amadeus stomped his foot again. "Everyone, to their posts!"
At his beckon the musicians ran to their places on the elevated stage, though some of the instruments were glaringly omitted. Of the three violinists, only one had his equipped. Nearly the entire bass section was missing, and the drummer was searching the ground, looking for his cymbals.
Amadeus didn't seem to care; He took his position facing the orchestra and raised his staff. Beginning the motions, the band performed as best as they could.
After a minute or two of miserable performance, Amadeus stopped and stared at his ensemble, unsure what to do. Finally, he did the expected.
"You blockheads! Do you expect to sound like that in front of the royal Burmecian family! They'll have your heads on platters. It's not enough that they're in economic crisis, but they also have to endure past your wretched music! And you call yourselves musicians!"
The raging of Amadeus didn't affect the group much; They were quite used to it. Most of them knew the routine: Amadeus would go ballistic for a few minutes, then he'd storm angrily out of the room, only to reappear and say that he may have acted in haste. By the time people had gotten their acts together, and the second time they performed ten times better.
Contrary to their thoughts, the rant of Amadeus was interrupted by the door to the room opening. All heads turned to see a tall, very young male walk into the room, holding a box filled with musical instruments. Dressed in what come almost be considered rags, the boy's eyes turned to the conductor, and he carried the box to him.
"Here you go, Mr. Prahms. The instruments you asked for."
Amadeus's eyes lit up as he wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders. "Thank you very much, Sir Frederick." He turned to his orchestra. "Now, see here, ladies and gentlemen! Here is a true, dedicated member of the Neo-Tantalus team. Our dear Frederick is only 15 years old, and he's putting in twice as much effort as all of you combined!"
The boy struggled to get of the conductor's grasp. He squirmed around uncomfortably before freeing himself. He bowed to Amadeus as his cheeks turned red from embarrassment.
"T...Thank you, Mr. Prahms." The bow was waved away by Amadeus.
"No, thank you, dear Frederick, for your undying devotion and loyalty to the team. If only these monsters could be like you!"
"Yeah...Thanks. Um, do you know where Yrena is?"
Amadeus grinned. "Ah, you seek the company of the leading lady of our production?"
Frederick blushed again, even harder.
"Very well. I believe I saw her in her room last."
"Thank you, sir." Frederick walked out of the room, still red.
Adjacent to the music rooms were the dorms for the twelve actors and actresses. One side belonged to the eight men, and the other was reserved for the four women. Even though they were marked, the different genders often men in one room or the other when they need to talk to someone.
In the men's dorm three were gathered. Two were standing in front of the mirror and conversing. They were equal in height and looked quite different in physical stature, made more apparent by the fact that one was male and the other female. The male was dressed in casual gear which seemed to hang off his thin frame. In contrast, the female had a green skirt draped over her legs, and a very small bra showed off her bulging arms.
"Come on, Ophelia!" The male cried. "Just cuz I borrowed one of your combs doesn't mean you gotta hold out on me like this!"
"Don't you "Come on, Ophelia" me! Just because we're twins doesn't mean you can get away with anymore crap than anyone else can! My personal belongings are just that - personal."
"I took a goddamn comb! How personal can a comb be, sis?"
"Plenty."
At that the third person in the room stood up. He was still rubbing his eyes from waking up so early. He was a dog-like humanoid with incredibly long limbs, and an equally gangly body to match. His hair was a neon-bright green color, and the shirt he was wearing was stuffed with Tetra Master cards. He walked to the mirror so he could brush his hair.
"What are you loving siblings arguing about now?" He asked, grinning.
"Sorry, Nikolai, we're just havin' a serious discussion here." Ophelia said gruffly.
"Yeah, take your crippled ass somewhere else." Avon added. He was met with a slap to the head by his sister.
"You apologize to him right now, you little weasel!"
Nikolai shook his head. "It's no problem, Ophelia. I know that Avon's cool with me, aren't you?" He managed to smile again.
Avon laughed. "Yeah, I'm cool with you. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna lay off on my pranks."
Nikolai began to sweat. "Heh...Of course not. I'm still laughing about the superglue you dumped on Pika's fur. Hilarious." He laughed timidly.
"You got it! And there's more where that comes from!" Avon laughed until Ophelia's hand met with his head again.
"No, there ain't, cuz if you do any more of that garbage, I'll bust your head open!" Ophelia hollered, obviously irritated.
"Will ya stop hitting me, you old witch!" Avon shouted back.
The siblings began to argue again, and before long the two had erupted into an all out war. When the chairs began to fly, Nikolai made a hasty exit into the hallway. Hopefully there would be someone to play cards with.
Down the hallway and past the sleeping quarters were the dressing rooms. They were a sight to be seen, as the room was very elaborately made, as it was also the heart of the ship. Separate stalls had been created for each person to get dressed in, but at the moment only two occupied the giant room. One was a slender young human woman, poking through several books and applying makeup at the same time. The other was an incredibly obese young human man, who was struggling to find the desired clothes for the show. Throwing his hands up in exasperation, he grabbed a custom-sized outfit for him and put walked into the dressing room. After a few minutes he walked out and waddled to the girl.
"Excuse me, Yrena?" He said in a low voice.
The girl looked up to the bulbous boy. "Yeah, Simon?"
"Does this look good on me?" Simon asked.
Yrena studied the outfit closely. After a minute or two of inspection, she nodded. "Yeah, Simon, I think it's great. Light blue looks good on you."
Simon blushed. "Really? It doesn't make me look too...big?"
Yrena shrugged. "Well, remember, Simon, you play the miserly father of the lead girl, and I think he's supposed to be pretty heavy. So yeah, you look perfect for it."
Simon nodded, his multiple chins bobbing up and down as he did so. "Yeah, thanks. But if I'm supposed to be a bad guy, maybe I should wear something darker, like I'm more evil."
The girl stood in thought for a moment. "Yeah, that might be a good idea. Is that anything that can fit you that's in dark brown?"
"Dark brown? Umm...There's that jacket I have, but it's kind of showy and expensive-looking."
"Perfect! My father in the play is supposed to love to show off his wealth, so go with that instead."
Simeon nodded again. "Alright, thanks." He walked back into the dressing room and began to change. Yrena went back to her makeup. After she was content with her lip-smacking beauty, she exited the room to show herself off to the male population of the ship.
The only room behind the dressing room was the engine room, and it was empty save a few workers. Behind that was the back of the ship, an open-air place that people could walk to if the pressure of the rest of the ship was too much to bear. Currently two were standing outside, thought they paid no attention to each other. One was a Burmecian woman, staring off the banister absent-mindedly. The other was a tall Salamander who had strung up a hammock connected to two banisters. Enormous red dreadlocks swung around his head as he relaxed.
The woman continued to stare blankly at the sky behind her until she saw a fly buzzing around. She attempted to crush the life out of it with her hand, but the little beast proved to be too fast for her. Pulling a small spear from under her green coat, she tried to jab it as quick as she could. Still, she failed. Exasperated, she turned to the Salamander.
"Kelvin, could you give me a hand here?" She asked desperately.
The green one rose from his hammock calmly and walked to her. Sticking his hand out with lightning speed, the deceased fly fell to the ground. Kelvin grinned at the rat woman.
"That good enough for you, Marina?"
Marina shook her head. "I'll never understand you. You lie around on that dumb hammock all day and all night, and you're faster than all of us! You should be as big as Simon, the way you exercise!"
Kelvin was taken aback by the sharpness of Marina. "Woah, calm down, girl. Something's bothering you, ain't it?"
Marina shrugged. "I guess so."
"Going back to your homeland, that you left in disgrace?"
"It wasn't disgrace!" Marina snapped.
"Oh, that's wrong. You just hurt your back or something, right?"
Marina sighed and sat down in a small chair. "It's a bunch of things, I guess. I haven't seen King Puck since he formally discharged from the Burmecian army. People were saying how much of a tragedy it was, saying I was going to be the next Freya and all that."
Kelvin sat down next to her. "But look what's going on now. Your kingdom is thriving, Puck has a grandchild, and the place is now as good as ever."
"Yeah, but...I don't know. I just feel like I have unfinished business there."
Kelvin nodded and prepared to say something, but he was interrupted by the loudspeaker.
"To all aboard this ship: Burmecia is dead ahead! Be ready to disembark in two minutes!"
Kelvin and Marina began to feel the eternal rain of Burmecia greet them. Both sighed as they walked back into the ship.
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The kingdom of Burmecia had recovered magnificently since Kuja had destroyed it so long ago. Businesses had been set up, children were playing in the streets, and the palace to the royal family had been reconstructed to look as beautiful as ever. The rain continued to fall, though wasn't nearly as severe as it was in the surrounding hills. The airship of Neo-Tantalus steered straight into the royal palace. As it parked in one of the major hangars, Burmecian crewmen burst forward to ensure the safety of everyone.
After the members of Neo-Tantalus were off the ship, two nobles in gleaming armor approached them. Both were elderly Burmecians, and had massive spears slung around their backs.
"Welcome to Burmecia, kind souls. I am Sir Fratley, and this is Lady Freya. We shall be your guides through this lovely kingdom."
The elderly female Burmecian glanced through the faces, looking for the one of the same race. Finally her eyes settled on Marina. She bowed silently, showing her lasting allegiance to Freya.
"Welcome, all of you. You shall all be treated as personal guests of the king, and all be met upon until the performance tonight." Freya said.
Fratley beckoned towards the palace. "If you would all be so kind, we can escort you to your rooms."
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"No, father! You cannot be serious! I love him with all my heart, and I simply cannot live without him!" Yrena cried, racing from one of the stage to the other, and leaping into the arms of Simon.
"How dare you question me, girl!" Simon said in his best impression of a thunderous roar as the script had dictated. "I decide who you marry, and no one else!"
"Care to dispute that?" Syovar conveniently stepped out from behind one of the buildings, and he drew his sword, pointing it at Simon.
"W...Be it you, peasant boy! Off with you! I have business with my daughter!"
"Aye, me too, and I think mine is more important than yours!"
Syovar's line was met with several echoes of laughter from the audience.
"HA!" Simeon bellowed, shifting his weight, as the jacket he was wearing was a bit too small. "We shall see if you can defeat my personal bodyguards!" With a whistle, Avon and Ophelia leapt onto the stage, each clutching a dagger.
"Think you can take us?" Avon snarled, his fake gold tooth glinting off the lights.
Syovar pointed his sword at them. "But of course. I can defeat scum like you with my eyes closed."
The three engaged in the obligatory sword duel while Simon struggled to catch Yrena. Lasting a few minutes to keep the audience on edge, Syovar finally stabbed Ophelia in the chest. The burly girl fell to her knees.
"I...You...Sorry, brother..." Were her last words as she fell to the ground. Avon's eyes seemed to light up as he pushed Syovar to the ground. In a flash he held his dagger to Yrena's throat.
"You little bastard...You took my sister from me, so I'll take your lover from ya!"
"NO!" Syovar shouted.
"NO!" Simon added, a tiny bit off cue.
But it was too late. The dagger had already scraped the fake-blood packet on Yrena's neck, and she fell to the ground. Both Syovar and Simon froze, still. In the same fit of rage Avon had experienced earlier, Syovar had drawn his blade again and in a brilliant flash, Avon was vanquished and laying on the ground, seemingly dead.
Syovar turned to Simon, tears streaming down his face. "Look at you, you fat old miser! Because of your greed and your hate of me, you daughter lies bleeding on the ground! Had you not craved the attention of the young prince, your daughter is dead!"
"N...No!" Simon gasped.
"Oh, yes. I have lost a lover, and you have lost a daughter. And now you shall pay the ultimate price."
He edged up to Simon slowly as the curtain fell. Just as the curtain closed fully Simon's piercing scream could be heard. With that John, in his familiar peasant outfit, stood in the center of the stage and addressed the mesmerized audience.
"So was the passing of our lovely girl, whose death was the result of her corrupted but loving father. And with our separate paths we go, we all hope that you enjoyed the show."
Just as John finished Amadeus fired up his orchestra for the final time. But the crowd hardly paid attention to the music. Everyone was on their feet, cheering and clapping ferociously. The curtains rose, and the entire cast walked onto the stage. The entire area were crazy as hats flew in the air and whistles could be heard. John glanced up to the royal balcony, and King Puck was on his feet, cheering up a storm, with his slightly more dignified children behind him, clapping. John breathed a huge sigh of relief. Maybe, just maybe, this could work after all.
Dark God Makou
(Note by the author: This series is going to be intertwined with Makou's "A Fine Mess." The first few chapters of this story won't have anything to do with her story, but they will soon. In any event, do yourselves a favor and read her story so far. It rocks. Oh, and please review this upon completion. I'm always looking for other people's opinions :)
The First Gig
Through the early morning fog a massive airship plowed through the sky with little difficulty. It's massive engine was burning at full power in the rear of the ship, and the beautiful painted colors on the surface of the craft were beginning to shine against the glow of the rising sun. It was the airship flying for several miles, as hardly anyone wished to operate such a huge vehicle at such an early time of the day.
The cockpit of the ship seemed to be unable to be fatigued, however. The burly, middle-aged humanoid gritted his teeth as he piloted the ship through the air. Finally getting through the minor turbulence, he sat back in his chair. He unbuttoned the bright blue vest adorned on his chest and relaxed, letting his stomach rest on his legs. He blew his wisps of hair out of his face, and he reached around to see if he could find any cigarettes to smoke. He cursed as he found he was out. He rose from his seat with a grunt, and grabbed a horn of some sort that had wires running through it.
"Hey, this yer captain speakin!" He bellowed with great ferocity. He waited a few seconds, as he imagined his crew was getting their act together from the force of the shout. Finally he resumed.
"Alright, boys and grrls, today's the big day. It's our first performance ever, and I don't want no errors! That means you're gettin' off yer fannies this second and rehearsing from now until the performance tonight. Any slip-ups tonight and you're getting a beatin'...Except for the ladies, who won't get no dinner for a week!"
He slammed the horn back, only to remember that he had forgotten one crucial part of his motivational speech. He grabbed it again.
"Oh yeah, and someone bring me a pack of smokes."
He sat back down in his seat, resuming his flight. Only a few seconds had elapsed before the door was burst through furiously by a tall human with a dark complexion. His clothes had been thrown on hurriedly and a nightcap still rested on his head. He strode up to his captain and handed him a small package.
"Here are your cigarettes, Captain Jonathon."
The hairy hand reached out of the captain's seat and grabbed them greedily. John lit one up as fast as he could, enjoying the burst of calmness he experienced.
"Thank ye, Syovar. I knew I could count on me main man."
Syovar saluted instantly. "Thank you, sir."
"For God's sake, you can easy on all that stuff. I was just playin' hardball with the rest of `em. Truth is, I'm just as nervous as they are."
Sensing his worry, Syovar relaxed. "Look, John, we're gonna do great tonight. The people of Burmecia are gonna be so wrapped about the new grandchild of the king that they'll hardly even care about our show."
"Stick it up yer blowhole, Wyvern. King Puck smacked down quite a bit of Gil, more than enough to show that he cares."
"Yeah, but..."
"Besides, no one's seen Tantalus perform for 50 years! That's quite a bit o'pressure people'll be puttin' on us."
Syovar rested his hand on John's shoulder. "Don't worry, John. It'll be alright. I'm sure we'll do great. After all," He flashed his perfect smile. "I've got the lead role. What could go wrong?"
Before John could reply the door opened and a cat-like humanoid girl burst in, panting hard. She rested her paws on her knees before leaping her slender body in front of the captain and holding a container in her hands.
"Your cigarettes, sir!" She saluted, and broke into laughter.
John took the pack and shoved it in his pocket. "Don't see what's so fun about a pack of smokes, girl."
"Aw, come on, captain! It's the start of a new age!" The girl planted her rear on the armrest of the chair. "It's the revival of Tantalus! The resurging of a golden era! The rebirth of times long forgotten! A renaissance! A resurgence! A..."
"Pika?" Syovar said calmly.
The girl cocked her head to his side. "Yeah, Syovar?"
"Kindly shut up!" He sneered.
Pika snuffed and folded her arms. "I'm simply trying to create a pleasant mood for our captain! Sorry!!!" She proceeded to stick her tongue out at Syovar, and stormed out of the room in a fury.
John stared at her as she departed, and glanced back at his second-in-command.
"We're doomed."
Behind the captain's room of the ship lay the storage rooms, where countless props and costumes had been strewn about in no particular order. Next to those rooms were two rooms. One was another storage room made specifically for the band; On the opposite side was the band's practicing center. At the moment the two dozen or so musicians were scrambling to get their instruments while a Genome of average height stood impatiently. He was fully clad in conductor gear, as he had been awake for two entire hours.
After several minutes of waiting, he finally stomped his foot on the ground.
"That's enough, you nincompoops! We are going to rehearse now, whether you've got your instruments or not!"
Silence ensued for several seconds before a timid young trumpeter piped up. "But, Conductor Amadeus, not all of us are quite ready..."
"I don't care!" Amadeus stomped his foot again. "Everyone, to their posts!"
At his beckon the musicians ran to their places on the elevated stage, though some of the instruments were glaringly omitted. Of the three violinists, only one had his equipped. Nearly the entire bass section was missing, and the drummer was searching the ground, looking for his cymbals.
Amadeus didn't seem to care; He took his position facing the orchestra and raised his staff. Beginning the motions, the band performed as best as they could.
After a minute or two of miserable performance, Amadeus stopped and stared at his ensemble, unsure what to do. Finally, he did the expected.
"You blockheads! Do you expect to sound like that in front of the royal Burmecian family! They'll have your heads on platters. It's not enough that they're in economic crisis, but they also have to endure past your wretched music! And you call yourselves musicians!"
The raging of Amadeus didn't affect the group much; They were quite used to it. Most of them knew the routine: Amadeus would go ballistic for a few minutes, then he'd storm angrily out of the room, only to reappear and say that he may have acted in haste. By the time people had gotten their acts together, and the second time they performed ten times better.
Contrary to their thoughts, the rant of Amadeus was interrupted by the door to the room opening. All heads turned to see a tall, very young male walk into the room, holding a box filled with musical instruments. Dressed in what come almost be considered rags, the boy's eyes turned to the conductor, and he carried the box to him.
"Here you go, Mr. Prahms. The instruments you asked for."
Amadeus's eyes lit up as he wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders. "Thank you very much, Sir Frederick." He turned to his orchestra. "Now, see here, ladies and gentlemen! Here is a true, dedicated member of the Neo-Tantalus team. Our dear Frederick is only 15 years old, and he's putting in twice as much effort as all of you combined!"
The boy struggled to get of the conductor's grasp. He squirmed around uncomfortably before freeing himself. He bowed to Amadeus as his cheeks turned red from embarrassment.
"T...Thank you, Mr. Prahms." The bow was waved away by Amadeus.
"No, thank you, dear Frederick, for your undying devotion and loyalty to the team. If only these monsters could be like you!"
"Yeah...Thanks. Um, do you know where Yrena is?"
Amadeus grinned. "Ah, you seek the company of the leading lady of our production?"
Frederick blushed again, even harder.
"Very well. I believe I saw her in her room last."
"Thank you, sir." Frederick walked out of the room, still red.
Adjacent to the music rooms were the dorms for the twelve actors and actresses. One side belonged to the eight men, and the other was reserved for the four women. Even though they were marked, the different genders often men in one room or the other when they need to talk to someone.
In the men's dorm three were gathered. Two were standing in front of the mirror and conversing. They were equal in height and looked quite different in physical stature, made more apparent by the fact that one was male and the other female. The male was dressed in casual gear which seemed to hang off his thin frame. In contrast, the female had a green skirt draped over her legs, and a very small bra showed off her bulging arms.
"Come on, Ophelia!" The male cried. "Just cuz I borrowed one of your combs doesn't mean you gotta hold out on me like this!"
"Don't you "Come on, Ophelia" me! Just because we're twins doesn't mean you can get away with anymore crap than anyone else can! My personal belongings are just that - personal."
"I took a goddamn comb! How personal can a comb be, sis?"
"Plenty."
At that the third person in the room stood up. He was still rubbing his eyes from waking up so early. He was a dog-like humanoid with incredibly long limbs, and an equally gangly body to match. His hair was a neon-bright green color, and the shirt he was wearing was stuffed with Tetra Master cards. He walked to the mirror so he could brush his hair.
"What are you loving siblings arguing about now?" He asked, grinning.
"Sorry, Nikolai, we're just havin' a serious discussion here." Ophelia said gruffly.
"Yeah, take your crippled ass somewhere else." Avon added. He was met with a slap to the head by his sister.
"You apologize to him right now, you little weasel!"
Nikolai shook his head. "It's no problem, Ophelia. I know that Avon's cool with me, aren't you?" He managed to smile again.
Avon laughed. "Yeah, I'm cool with you. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna lay off on my pranks."
Nikolai began to sweat. "Heh...Of course not. I'm still laughing about the superglue you dumped on Pika's fur. Hilarious." He laughed timidly.
"You got it! And there's more where that comes from!" Avon laughed until Ophelia's hand met with his head again.
"No, there ain't, cuz if you do any more of that garbage, I'll bust your head open!" Ophelia hollered, obviously irritated.
"Will ya stop hitting me, you old witch!" Avon shouted back.
The siblings began to argue again, and before long the two had erupted into an all out war. When the chairs began to fly, Nikolai made a hasty exit into the hallway. Hopefully there would be someone to play cards with.
Down the hallway and past the sleeping quarters were the dressing rooms. They were a sight to be seen, as the room was very elaborately made, as it was also the heart of the ship. Separate stalls had been created for each person to get dressed in, but at the moment only two occupied the giant room. One was a slender young human woman, poking through several books and applying makeup at the same time. The other was an incredibly obese young human man, who was struggling to find the desired clothes for the show. Throwing his hands up in exasperation, he grabbed a custom-sized outfit for him and put walked into the dressing room. After a few minutes he walked out and waddled to the girl.
"Excuse me, Yrena?" He said in a low voice.
The girl looked up to the bulbous boy. "Yeah, Simon?"
"Does this look good on me?" Simon asked.
Yrena studied the outfit closely. After a minute or two of inspection, she nodded. "Yeah, Simon, I think it's great. Light blue looks good on you."
Simon blushed. "Really? It doesn't make me look too...big?"
Yrena shrugged. "Well, remember, Simon, you play the miserly father of the lead girl, and I think he's supposed to be pretty heavy. So yeah, you look perfect for it."
Simon nodded, his multiple chins bobbing up and down as he did so. "Yeah, thanks. But if I'm supposed to be a bad guy, maybe I should wear something darker, like I'm more evil."
The girl stood in thought for a moment. "Yeah, that might be a good idea. Is that anything that can fit you that's in dark brown?"
"Dark brown? Umm...There's that jacket I have, but it's kind of showy and expensive-looking."
"Perfect! My father in the play is supposed to love to show off his wealth, so go with that instead."
Simeon nodded again. "Alright, thanks." He walked back into the dressing room and began to change. Yrena went back to her makeup. After she was content with her lip-smacking beauty, she exited the room to show herself off to the male population of the ship.
The only room behind the dressing room was the engine room, and it was empty save a few workers. Behind that was the back of the ship, an open-air place that people could walk to if the pressure of the rest of the ship was too much to bear. Currently two were standing outside, thought they paid no attention to each other. One was a Burmecian woman, staring off the banister absent-mindedly. The other was a tall Salamander who had strung up a hammock connected to two banisters. Enormous red dreadlocks swung around his head as he relaxed.
The woman continued to stare blankly at the sky behind her until she saw a fly buzzing around. She attempted to crush the life out of it with her hand, but the little beast proved to be too fast for her. Pulling a small spear from under her green coat, she tried to jab it as quick as she could. Still, she failed. Exasperated, she turned to the Salamander.
"Kelvin, could you give me a hand here?" She asked desperately.
The green one rose from his hammock calmly and walked to her. Sticking his hand out with lightning speed, the deceased fly fell to the ground. Kelvin grinned at the rat woman.
"That good enough for you, Marina?"
Marina shook her head. "I'll never understand you. You lie around on that dumb hammock all day and all night, and you're faster than all of us! You should be as big as Simon, the way you exercise!"
Kelvin was taken aback by the sharpness of Marina. "Woah, calm down, girl. Something's bothering you, ain't it?"
Marina shrugged. "I guess so."
"Going back to your homeland, that you left in disgrace?"
"It wasn't disgrace!" Marina snapped.
"Oh, that's wrong. You just hurt your back or something, right?"
Marina sighed and sat down in a small chair. "It's a bunch of things, I guess. I haven't seen King Puck since he formally discharged from the Burmecian army. People were saying how much of a tragedy it was, saying I was going to be the next Freya and all that."
Kelvin sat down next to her. "But look what's going on now. Your kingdom is thriving, Puck has a grandchild, and the place is now as good as ever."
"Yeah, but...I don't know. I just feel like I have unfinished business there."
Kelvin nodded and prepared to say something, but he was interrupted by the loudspeaker.
"To all aboard this ship: Burmecia is dead ahead! Be ready to disembark in two minutes!"
Kelvin and Marina began to feel the eternal rain of Burmecia greet them. Both sighed as they walked back into the ship.
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The kingdom of Burmecia had recovered magnificently since Kuja had destroyed it so long ago. Businesses had been set up, children were playing in the streets, and the palace to the royal family had been reconstructed to look as beautiful as ever. The rain continued to fall, though wasn't nearly as severe as it was in the surrounding hills. The airship of Neo-Tantalus steered straight into the royal palace. As it parked in one of the major hangars, Burmecian crewmen burst forward to ensure the safety of everyone.
After the members of Neo-Tantalus were off the ship, two nobles in gleaming armor approached them. Both were elderly Burmecians, and had massive spears slung around their backs.
"Welcome to Burmecia, kind souls. I am Sir Fratley, and this is Lady Freya. We shall be your guides through this lovely kingdom."
The elderly female Burmecian glanced through the faces, looking for the one of the same race. Finally her eyes settled on Marina. She bowed silently, showing her lasting allegiance to Freya.
"Welcome, all of you. You shall all be treated as personal guests of the king, and all be met upon until the performance tonight." Freya said.
Fratley beckoned towards the palace. "If you would all be so kind, we can escort you to your rooms."
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"No, father! You cannot be serious! I love him with all my heart, and I simply cannot live without him!" Yrena cried, racing from one of the stage to the other, and leaping into the arms of Simon.
"How dare you question me, girl!" Simon said in his best impression of a thunderous roar as the script had dictated. "I decide who you marry, and no one else!"
"Care to dispute that?" Syovar conveniently stepped out from behind one of the buildings, and he drew his sword, pointing it at Simon.
"W...Be it you, peasant boy! Off with you! I have business with my daughter!"
"Aye, me too, and I think mine is more important than yours!"
Syovar's line was met with several echoes of laughter from the audience.
"HA!" Simeon bellowed, shifting his weight, as the jacket he was wearing was a bit too small. "We shall see if you can defeat my personal bodyguards!" With a whistle, Avon and Ophelia leapt onto the stage, each clutching a dagger.
"Think you can take us?" Avon snarled, his fake gold tooth glinting off the lights.
Syovar pointed his sword at them. "But of course. I can defeat scum like you with my eyes closed."
The three engaged in the obligatory sword duel while Simon struggled to catch Yrena. Lasting a few minutes to keep the audience on edge, Syovar finally stabbed Ophelia in the chest. The burly girl fell to her knees.
"I...You...Sorry, brother..." Were her last words as she fell to the ground. Avon's eyes seemed to light up as he pushed Syovar to the ground. In a flash he held his dagger to Yrena's throat.
"You little bastard...You took my sister from me, so I'll take your lover from ya!"
"NO!" Syovar shouted.
"NO!" Simon added, a tiny bit off cue.
But it was too late. The dagger had already scraped the fake-blood packet on Yrena's neck, and she fell to the ground. Both Syovar and Simon froze, still. In the same fit of rage Avon had experienced earlier, Syovar had drawn his blade again and in a brilliant flash, Avon was vanquished and laying on the ground, seemingly dead.
Syovar turned to Simon, tears streaming down his face. "Look at you, you fat old miser! Because of your greed and your hate of me, you daughter lies bleeding on the ground! Had you not craved the attention of the young prince, your daughter is dead!"
"N...No!" Simon gasped.
"Oh, yes. I have lost a lover, and you have lost a daughter. And now you shall pay the ultimate price."
He edged up to Simon slowly as the curtain fell. Just as the curtain closed fully Simon's piercing scream could be heard. With that John, in his familiar peasant outfit, stood in the center of the stage and addressed the mesmerized audience.
"So was the passing of our lovely girl, whose death was the result of her corrupted but loving father. And with our separate paths we go, we all hope that you enjoyed the show."
Just as John finished Amadeus fired up his orchestra for the final time. But the crowd hardly paid attention to the music. Everyone was on their feet, cheering and clapping ferociously. The curtains rose, and the entire cast walked onto the stage. The entire area were crazy as hats flew in the air and whistles could be heard. John glanced up to the royal balcony, and King Puck was on his feet, cheering up a storm, with his slightly more dignified children behind him, clapping. John breathed a huge sigh of relief. Maybe, just maybe, this could work after all.