Immaculate Filth
Charred Piles of Rubble and Kindling FTW~
||So all the feedback I've gotten so far was… postive and supportive. Apparently, people are not ticked off by silly chatter about the words fuck and rape. As great as it is to see that people are so beautifully open-minded, I'm a bit… sad.
But I will make at least one person declare war on me! Even if I have to bring in controversial issues like homophobia, abortion, and that old guy! YOU TRAMPS WILL BE INSOLENT, DAMMIT.
Also; I actually had to come up with a semi-original past for the "Heroine". I really wanted to rip off a common Mary Sue past… however, that would technically be picking at someone's particular piece of work. Moreover, that would involve me having to actually go through and at least try to read at a reasonable depth the majority of OC fanfiction in this fandom. My brain can only take so much damage.
And I don't care if Johnny Depp could actually pull Preyas off, I REFUSE to let him be a minor in the Bakugan movie. It better be a fucking rumour. *Depp fangirl, whut?*
||Disclaimer: I do not own Bakugan. I do own my OCs.
||Our OC "heroine" is introduced, as well as two other OCs. Warning: one of them uses rather foul language~. Though I did tone it down. I promise.
"Your Majesty, the chances of us winning this are close to zero! It's impossible! We may have driven the Wretched One back for now, but…"
The words faltered into broken embarrassment as soft eyes of bright violet glanced his way, an understanding smile twinkling in them. Her sweet voice quickly soothed the knight's fears. "Please, Farbus. Nothing is impossible if we set our minds to it and work together. After all, good will always triumph over evil."
"Y-Yes, milady." The knight blushed a brilliant red, shifting uncomfortably in his armour as the girl giggled gently, brushing back glistening locks of silvery hair as she glanced around the rest of the room, still smiling that special smile that quickly hushed the anxiety on the faces of the rest of her advisors.
"Please everyone, have faith in me. I don't think I've ever let any of you down before, and I will not begin to now."
A chorus of "We believe in you, your Majesty!", "Praise the Queen!" and "Snookied!" rang throughout the room, echoing off the candle-light lit walls joyously. The girl continued to smile and nod patiently until all cries quieted down.
"Now," she began, hands clasped respectfully in front of her, "I admit that the situation is dire… but I have a proposal." Not a word was spoken as she paused, feeling the eyes of everyone upon her, her delicately pale face set in determination. "I will follow the Wretched One back to wherever it hides, and finish this once and for all!"
Gasps resounded, horrified and awed. Farbus took a step forward, hands held out pleadingly. "Milady, you can't possibly do such a thing! We… there's the possibility that you could lose! You are, after all, human… what will the kingdom do without you?! We need you! Who else will take care of all that paperwork?!"
"Do you truly doubt her skills?" This new voice, wise and tinkling, sounded from the girl's shoulder; an argentine orb popped open, looking calmly at the frantic knight. "She has never lost anything yet. If that cannot satisfy you, then you have my word that I will protect her."
Again the knight stammered, the expressions on his face conflicting, but backed away sheepishly all the same. "O-Of course…"
"Your Majesty." One bashful counselor stepped forward, wringing his hands together and trembling. "If… if this is truly your desire, then we will not stop you. But… where will you go? The Wretched One could be anywhere—"
"No fear." The orb on the girl's shoulder floated to the top of her glistening head, glowing. The air behind them shimmered, faint golden lines of an arch etched into it. "I know exactly where she is. She has taken refuge… in my native land."
A gasp sounded immediately; it did not stop the girl of turning around to reach her hand towards the newly-made sparkling doorway. Clearly, she would not turn back from her decision.
"Farewell and good luck, milady!" The girl paused for a moment, turning around to give the crier a warm smile, before she took the last step.
"Yes, Queen Kireina Oni!" another of her council called out, as the portal swallowed her completely and instantly dissolved away. "Please, come back to us safely!"
"Damn," Farbus muttered under his breath, watching the space where the girl, Kireina, had once stood with a mixture of admiration and sadness. "I really wanted to tap that…"
"Moooo-lah, homey! You friggin' hear that? We're getting' a lotta cheddah for this fatass baby!"
"Shh…" The hushing sound just madely managed to make it past his quivering lips, and it definitely wasn't strong enough to reach his partner's ears. It was probably for the best; after all, no one would want to incite the quick temper of a certain someone when one was on the floor, face down, and could easily find their measily excuse for a spine snapped in half.
"Wanna know the first thing I'mma gonna do as soon as I get that sweet-ass paycheck?"
No I don't. You know why? Because you are never, ever getting that check, you lousy bi—ack! No no no, she might be reading my mind, I must think nicely of her… "W-What?"
Once again, the word was too quiet to be heard. But that was irrevelant; she was going to announce what she planned to do with the paycheck whether he wanted to hear or not. "I'mma gonna by a bitchload of ammunition, and then I'mma gonna roarin' in on that damn old people home! Seriously, homes, I betcha the lot of them are pedophiles! Pedophilia's a fucking crime!"
---
"I thought this character was supposed to be a gangster?"
"Correction. She's a wannabe gangster."
"Well, excuse me if you suck at writing wannabe gangster talk. Really, if a real wannabe gangster were to read this, they would really hate you for writing such a skewed misinterpretation of their dialect. For serious, try to get it right."
"Can you write wannabe-gangster-ese?"
"…I have a wannabe gangster for a stepbrother."
"That doesn't answer the question."
"…No."
"Exactly. Be silent with the hypocrisy."
"I'm sorry, but it's hard when the basis of my personality is hypocrisy. Both of our personalities, actually…"
"Touché."
---
"And then I'm going for the damn orphanage! Because, man, those nasty little snot-nosed brats ain't as innocent as you think! And then the friggin' elementary school, them anklebiters are just as bad! One of 'em tried to steal my lunchbox the other day! I had to beat 'em to get it back!"
At this point, he felt as though he should correct her and spare the sinless children; for one thing, it wasn't her lunchbox. And she definitely was not the victim of the scene. And for another thing, he was pretty sure that she was getting her life mixed-up with that of Karen Walker's from Will & Grace. Yes, he would correct her on that…he simply needed to work up the necessary courage and volume. Granted, that would take several hours, and by then they would have forgotten all about this, but he really should speak up for the innocents…
His train of thought was lost when the door swung open, smacking him squarely in the face. And yes, that was his nose making the nasty crunchy sound. Thank you so very much for caring.
---
Farbus blinked when the door refused to move forward, resolutely swinging back instead. With a frown, he threw the door open again, only for the knob to bounce back into his hand with a pained yowl. Well, this simply wouldn't do, for the chief knight to be thwarted by a measly door. This called for drastic action.
He gripped the doorknob, eyes narrowing into two slivers of ice. This fiendish tool for exiting and entering rooms will not get the best of him!
"Um…Farbus?" One of the councilors tapped his shoulder timidly; the knight jumped in surprise, accidently pushing the door again.
And it still refused to open all the way the insolent bitch. Not only that, but it was crying! As though this diabolical slab of wood had the heart to cry and feel pain! It was clearly an act to win his pity! Oh, but yes, just wait, he would give this door a real reason to cry soon enough…
The councilor continued, oblivious to the war about to unfold between man and postern. "Would it be possible for us to…er, leave the room? Some of us reeeaaally want to go to the temple and pray for the success of the Queen…"
Farbus blinked again, and a few more times to get that anxious effect. How could he fulfill such a request without revealing the embarrassing truth of his sudden inability to work a doorway? "Um…of course. Just a moment…"
---
"Hey, are you going to get to the actual story sometime soon?"
"Shut up. I'm writing funny stuff."
"It's not funny."
"You have no right to have an opinion about my works."
"Your works?"
"Yes. My works. Because you are too insignificant an invertebrate for me to consider being a co-author."
"Invertebrate?"
"Oh, I apologize. Should I dumb it down for you?"
"^^ Oh, no need, you anthropoidic, microbic, superfluous refuse of sub-sentient cerebellum and corporeal substantiality."
"You sooo used a thesaurus to piece that together."
"As if you didn't use a thesaurus to think up 'invertebrate'."
"…How about we move away from our incapability of speaking what we perceive to be intelligently without the aid of a thesaurus and go back to whatever the hell you were yapping about earlier?"
"Whatever. …What was that again?"
"Well, I think that you were going to suggest I move the plot past the deviousness of doors, instead wasting time on purposeless mini-scenes that express the sheer beauty of humour at it's finest."
"…It's not funny."
"SAYS YOU."
---
"That's one way to open a door," the councilor murmured respectfully, admiring the smoking hole that now dominated the wall.
Farbus casually flicked back a stray strand of strawberry-gold hair as he too regarded his handiwork with fondness. "Inoright?" With a very modest smirk, he examined the charred pile of rubble and kindling…and then realized that there was totally a chick standing the hallway, right beside the charred pile of rubble and kindling.
He glanced at the chick hopefully –
– then looked away quickly. If she wasn't as glamorously beautiful as the Queen, then she soooo wasn't worth tapping.
Actually, he couldn't really gauge her level of beauty; her face was hidden behind the shadow of the large brim of her hat – embellished with glittering green and gold dollar signs – and ragged tufts of black hair (though the black was definitely fading, and there were spots of dirty blonde showing through). All that he could really see of her face were two tiny, barely noticeable blue irises staring back at him.
And there was nothing that could account for a killer-and-totally-smexeh figure; the girl was practically drowning in that heavy purple hoody of hers, and the shape of her hips was lost among the folds of her sagging "skinny" jeans – the ankles of which, as well as her clumsily big black skater shoes, were dirty with the dust from the charred pile of rubble and kindling – held up only by a thick black belt that had a sneering skull for a buckle.
He wasn't even really sure how he realized the person was a girl in the first place. Perhaps the gods had allowed it to be known for him, so that he may choose this lass as his one true love…?
BLASPHEMOUS DEITIES! How dare they try to insinuate that someone other than the holy Queen be his soulmate!
"Just keep your head low and walk away," the councilor muttered, ducking around Farbus' arms as he raised his fists towards the ceiling, snarling and screaming incoherently, the charred pile of rubble and kindling sitting forgotten before him. The rest of the room's occupants followed the first councilor, sparing no glances for the stricken girl staring dumbly at the knight.
She was so stricken, in fact, that she didn't notice the hoarse whispers of utter pain and the twitching hand scrabbling through a chalky hole in the surface of the charred pile of rubble and kindling that you, reader, should already be aware of. This is simply an example of being unable to come up with anything except the same description over and over and over and over and over…and over…and trying to be annoying by using it over and over and over and over…and over…even when it's unnecessary.
"J-Jill…Jill, save me, please…I can't feel my nose…oh god, there's so much blood, I can feel it on my face, and I think it's trickling into my mouth…I'm going to be drowned by my own blood…agh, I'm…running out of air…Jill, please, please notice me as I take advantage of this rare moment of kindness from the author that allows me to defy logic and still cling to life after being blasted by overwhelming magical power and buried beneath this charred pile of rubble and kindling…oh please, Jesus, don't let me die now…"
As ignorant as Jill was to the dire predicament the miraculously speaking charred pile of rubble and kindling, Farbus wasn't. Slowly and deliberately, he slowly and deliberately lowered his fists, and slowly and deliberately cast his eyes upon the charred pile of rubble and kindling that slowly and deliberately sat there.
And Farbus seethed, reader. He seethed with all the rage of a proud man who had discovered that the inhuman adversary he had made barely a minute and a half ago was still speaking.
---
"You are so just delaying getting to the Bakugan part of this story, aren't you?"
"Shut up. I'm having fun with this."
"I really think you should just leave poor Harry alone. He's already been beaten by a door three times, broke his nose, got caught in a blast of overwhelming magical power and is now very near death. And he's supposed to play a bigger role in this fic. Which, you know, would be kinda hard for him to do in the afterlife…"
"I said shut up I am having fun with this. Don't you understand that the basis of contemporary humour is the eternal pain of guileless characters such as him?"
"Of course I do. I suggested it."
"…How about this. You shut up, and I promise that I will definitely get to the Bakugan part of this story at some point of time in this chapter."
"Well, it's not like I actually care that much. I was just mentioning that you're delaying the inevitable pain of having to write the mindless dolts that make up the Resistance."
"True as that may be…shit. I don't have a shrewd comeback—"
"—you could always just say 'shut up'…"
"Shut up."
---
"Being of evil and despair!" Gnashing his teeth together, Farbus pointed threateningly at the charred pile of rubble and kindling with hands that were glowing a definite hue of gold. Yep. Glowing gold. He thought it was pretty badass. "Prepare to face your DOOM!"
The hand poking out of the charred pile of rubble and kindling waved helplessly, moving with the desperate wails sounding from somewhere deep inside. "No! No, I'm sososososososo sorry, I'll never lay on the floor in front of an opening door again, just spare me! Spare me the doom and your badass powers, I'm innocent! FORGIVE MEEEEEE!"
Farbus went still, hands still flickering as a slow grin unfurled on his face. "…You think my powers are badass? Because…you know, they kinda are…"
Aha! So the key to his survival was to act like a kiss-up! Now this was definitely something the owner of the hand could do. "Y-Yes, they are! I-I'm u-unworthy to be s-subject to it's sheer badassness! P-Please, spare m-me, a-almighty one!"
This was definitely a pose-like-a-badass for Farbus. He puffed out his chest, grin growing larger with each word. "Well, I suppose I can work up a bit of mercy for such a pitiable inanimate obje—" The knight suddenly went silent, face wiped of all emotion. There was something wrong with the way that the remains of the hated door was talking to him…it didn't follow logic. Inanimate objects didn't have nervous systems, and thus couldn't feel pain, even if they were blasted to bits. So the appearance of a "pained" voice didn't make sense.
He would have attributed it to the underhanded ways of the brute, but now that he thought about it, the door wouldn't even be talking in the first place. They much preferred to remain haughty and aloof.
And then, it hit him. It was a human being pleading for his life.
At least he could brag about his badass-powers-of-deduction.
"Oh, shit!" Farbus broke out of his pose-of-badassness and leapt towards the charred pile of rubble and kindling – and that will totally be the last time that description is used – and stuck his hands in valiantly, digging out all the plaster and crap. It wasn't long until he was dragging out the trembling form of a very beaten-up boy.
A thin chest fluttered under a ridiculously big brown wool sweater and knobby knees knocked together in an awesome alliteration combo as Farbus gently set him down on the ground. Blood smeared his face and clung to the tips of his unstyled sandy hair, the source being a very squashed nose and a few tiny shards of glass speared in his cheeks and forehead. Owlish hazel eyes flitted open weakly, cracked behind a half-smashed pair of squared, thick-rimmed glasses.
"I-I'm alive?" the boy wheezed incredulously. "AH-AH-AH paaaaiiiiin. But…life! Yes! Oh, blessed lord of all that is kind and great on this green earth, I sing you praises!"
"Yeah yeah yeah, that's great," Farbus mumbled frantically as his hands changed from gold to a soft baby blue. Which, by the way, is just as badass as gold, if not more.
The boy blinked hazily, whimpering as his nose crunched back into place as Farbus' hands passed over his face; glass darted out of his skin, blood was magically wiped away, and a couple of ribs popped back into place. "I…I'm healed! Oh, gracious one, thy compassion is truly boundless!"
Farbus waved these compliments away absentmindedly. "Trust me, I know. I'm just that fantabulous. Anyways, what's it gonna take to keep your mouth shut?"
He blinked again. "Huh?"
"If anyone found out that I nearly killed you, I would soooo be fired from this sweet gig. You see, I kinda had to take this oath, and I'm not allowed to harm any human life, which really doesn't make sense for someone whose a knight and who works with sharp shiny toys that could cripple any insignificant lifeform and has epic magical powers that easily could destroy an entire nation. So the logical course of action would be for me to do you a favour in order to keep you quiet about this little mishap, a strategy I will go with as I am unaware that your gratefulness exceeds your anger and so keeping quiet about the restrictions of the oath would actually be best course of action so that you wouldn't be able to use it against me in some sort of evil scheme to do harm to those I care for most."
---
"Oh my god. You're as bad as the actual Bakugan writers."
"Shut u—hey. That…actually hurt, you know."
"…Ohh. So…you do have feelings?"
"I…I think so."
"Crazy stuff."
"Inoright?"
---
"So, what do you want?" Farbus continued, oblivious to the boy's bewildered expression. "Gold? A way to fame? A bed for the night? A genie? Some sort of tiny magical token that will prove to be essential for your treacherous journey ahead?"
"Um… er, if it's not too much trouble, if you could just point me to the washro—OW!"
Jill quickly backed away, quietly taking notice of the big black skater shoe-shaped print on the back of her partner's head and whistling when he turned to her, aghast with pain.
Suddenly, he understood her little "hint"; he whipped around back towards Farbus, cowering a little as he made his request. "Erm… well, we were kind of wondering – and this is only if you feel like disclosing such crucial information instead of blasting us into bits – but, um, could you tell us… where Queen Kireina Oni went to?"
"Her Majesty? Oh, she went to New Vestroia of course."
"New Vestroia?" The boy perked up a bit as his hand dived into the pocket of his ragged slacks, pulling out a battered brown notebook and flipping through the pages with shaking hands. "Er, what fandom is that from again… oh, I think it's Digimon…"
"No," Jill mumbled as she kneeled beside him, voice void of all the brash arrogance it had held prior to the door's initial opening. "It's YuGiOh."
"Really? Wait… I think it's actually Pokemon."
"Here, let me see that book… nope, B-Daman."
"But that can't be… look here, Dinosaur King, doesn't that sound right?"
"…It kinda does. But it still doesn't sound completely right."
"I guess we'll just work that out later." The boy stashed the book away, back in his pocket, and turned his miserable eyes back on Farbus. "Um, so where is this 'New Vestroia'? Is it down the street? Is it another country? Do we need to take an airline, or are we okay with a taxi?"
"It's in another dimension."
"…That would be one hell of a taxi ride," Jill said with a low whistle.
Farbus nodded, running a hand through his long and glorious locks of prettiness. "What do you need her Majesty for anyways? Are you delivering a message or something? Did something go wrong in Accounting? You could always talk to Gregin, he takes care of all the Queen's matters when she's off saving the world."
"Er, no…" The boy wracked his mind agitatedly, searching through all that gray matter for a rational reason to need to meet her. 'Her utter demise' probably wouldn't fly. "We wanted… her autograph."
"That's all? Why, I could just take you down to the gift shop, we're selling them by the handful there."
Cue loss of hope for the pair. Depressed, the boy dragged himself to his feet, wobbling a bit. "No, no… we'll be fine."
"If you say so." Farbus shrugged and snapped his fingers; a twinkling violet stone fell into his palm, which he handed to the stunned boy. "I feel a bit bad for not being more help, so here's a tiny magical token that will prove to be essential for your treacherous journey ahead. Don't break it, okay? They're expensive."
Without another word, the knight turned and strode away – like a model – leaving the boy and Jill to stare at his retreating back. "… That fucker had pointy ears," Jill grumbled, brash arrogance returning.
He was just going to keep quiet and pretend to agree with her. But eventually, he will speak in the defense of the beautiful man who had saved his life and was poised to become his new hero… he would.
"I could have whipped that girly-man from here to Kentucky, ya'know."
"I-I'm not denying that…"
"I COULD HAVE, BITCH! Ya hear me?! I just… didn't wanna exert the energy!"
"I-I believe you."
---
And now, readers, is the moment of triumph.
The moment in which the story actually progresses. As in, we actually get to the actual canon characters and all the actual things that actually have to do with the actual Bakugan.
Aren't you excited?
"No."
"No one asked you. No one asks you anyways."
"My Momsy asks me what I want for dinner."
"… Well then."
"Yeah. It's a really hard decision, actually. I always want to say McDonalds, but then I'll come across as fat, since I already eat so much junk, plus it costs money, but there's rarely anything good to eat in the house…"
"Shut up."
---
"So you see, when your opponent uses Blibbedy Blah, you can use Blaghy Bleh in response, it totally pumps up your Bakugan big time! But you gotta shout and wave your arms dramatically when you play it, otherwise, it won't seem as dramatic."
Baron nodded eagerly, scribbling down this precious piece of advice on the half-filled sheet of paper in front of him as Dan scratched the back of his head with a boastful grin. "I see now, Master Dan! Tell me, should I shout more like the Hulk, or like Tarza—oh no! My crayon! It broooooke!"
The grin slipped off Dan's face as Baron raised the neatly snapped pink crayon despondently, tears threatening to burst from his eyes. "Um… gee, that's too bad."
"My crayooooooon! This can't be, it was supposed to be me and this crayon against the world for life!"
"…I'm sure there'll be other crayons, man."
The younger boy sniffled. "I-If you say so, Master Dan…"
"Blaghy Bleh? Really?"
Dan jerked away from his attempts at comforting his disciple, glaring at the exasperated Ace leaning coolly against the wall. "Yeah, Blaghy Bleh! You see a problem with it?!"
"Yeah, I do in fact. Blaghy Bleh is easily stopped by Bwabwablu. You gotta use Boobaboo, that always does the trick!"
"Oh please! Does Boobaboo make fire come out of your Bakugan's nostrils?!"
"It does."
"…You need a haircut!"
At that point, Marucho piped up from his position by the computers; another tetris block tumbled slowly down the screen as the midget painstakingly flipped its position. "Both Blaghy Bleh and Boobaboo can be countered by Bim Bweh. The best choice would be to use a Double Ability, with Bishbosh and Balalalala."
Dan scowled as Ace bristled in retaliation, shooting a most hurtful remark towards the youngest member of the Resistance. "You're short!"
Meanwhile, Mira looked upwards dully from her seat on the couch, trying to block out the rather pointless conversation by counting the cracks in their bus' ceiling. If they weren't going to believe that the Vexos had made up the Blah Blah Ability series and told them about it just to mess with their heads, then she wasn't going to bother. Shun sat beside her, flipping through the newest issue of J-14.
And then, it happened.
The authoress remembered that the Bakugan existed for once and quickly mentioned that they were all chilling in a mini-Jacuzzi that Marucho had whipped up using a stove and a pot.
Drago went stiff (as stiff as a marble could get without breaking itself), forgetting to pay attention to Elfin's happy chatter about that toooootally hawt dude at the bar last night. "I sense…overwhelming power!"
"Whaaaat?" Percival moaned in exasperation, popping open grouchily. "That's the seventh time today!"
"Well, I'm sorry if there's a surprising amount of people and objects with overwhelming power. Myself included."
"Don't rub it in, jackass."
"Hm?" Something worthwhile to look into? Mira glanced at the Bakugan's pot, hurriedly standing up as Shun sighed and closed his magazine. (It was a really interesting article about Justin Beiber's nasty haters, too. Who would have thunk it?) The rest of the team practically leapt for the pot, eyes brightening in anticipation for something exciting to actually happen for once.
"Really, Drago?!"
"Yes."
"Ohmygosh, this is sooo exciting! Nemus, we gotta battle our hardest, okay?!"
"Um, of course, Baron… although overwhelming power doesn't necessarily point towards a ba—oh, nevermind, it does."
"Percival, we gotta look really cool, okay?! You have your lines memorized?!"
"Always!"
"Let's go!" Dan, Ace, and Baron cheered together, sticking their hands ecstatically in the pot… and prompty pulling them out. "Hot water, hot water! Pain!"
Mira sighed, putting her hands on her hips as Shun quietly set the magazine on the coffee table. Marucho laughed nervously as his three comrades shook their boiled-red hands morosely.
And then.
Light.
Shining through the windows.
And it wasn't the Sun. Just so you know. Cause normally, when light is shining through the windows, it's the Sun. And although this light was just as bright and yellow and warm and purtyful as the Sun's light, it definitely wasn't the Sun. You can tell because earlier, three sentences had been separated dramatically. Normally, you wouldn't bother with such fancy touches for common sunlight.
"Dude!" Dan dashed for the door as it slid open, the rest of the team hot on his heels (minus Shun, who had forgotten to put a bookmark in the magazine and now had to refind his page).
---
Reader, perhaps you realize it by now. This encounter was not going to be the same as the other six encounters they had gone through that day, nor the forty-three encounters to be remembered from the past week.
…That is a load of bullshit. Encounters with overwhelming powers only have two options; either you meet a fantastical ally who pretty much takes over your job of saving a race of big ugly monsters, or you have to fight a dangerous and wily enemy who falls to the power of teamwork, friendship, and cheatcodes in the end.
But what is different about this encounter, is that it is detailed in this fic. It is the point of this fic. Were those other encounters detailed in this fic? No, they were not. They were detailed in other fics of much lesser magnitude and conceit.
And now to use that lovely little praise, "I digress". Readers, this is the turning point of the Brawler's lives for this specific writing. This is the initial incident that you should have learned about in English class, unless they call it something else in other schools.
Readers, this is a crappily done cliffhanger.
This is the end of this particular chapter of my free time.
Good day~
||I did once read an article about Justin Beiber's nasty haters. And I'm pretty sure it was in J-14 that I read it in. Don't quote me, though~.