From the Berlin Berliner Zeitung, December 24, 4100 (Page 1)
Berlin Shield Disappears; Reappears After Six Hours
A collective sigh of relief was heard yesterday after the shield, which was up for over two thousand years, was returned to its former station over the state of Berlin. Civilians that work in or call Berlin home were in for a shock after a helicopter crashed into the side-wall of the shield that was in the northern part of the state. The cause of the helicopter crash is not under investigation, owing to the fact that thousands saw the event happen. Reports claim that a large group of Trolls, led by two, Gray Alien-like beings, infiltrated the shield. The Trolls, and their two, Gray Alien-like leaders, reeked havoc in the capital city for nearly an hour before disappearing; one of the two Gray Alien-like beings is said to be responsible for the shield being brought down.
The shield was returned to its former station at 7:02 p.m.—exactly six hours later. Despite wide-spread panic and fears on further attacks being made, no other, non-Earthly beasts caused further trouble. Martial Law was declared for all of twelve hours; searches for anything abnormal or alien were done, which brought up nothing. Normal, fear-free, living returned at daybreak.
From the Berlin Berliner Morgenpost, December 26, 4100 (Page 2)
Possible New Species of Eagle Spotted in Berlin
For many, the Golden Eagle is a symbol of courage, strength, perspicacity, and immortality; the bird is seen as the King of the skies and, in morphology, it's noted as a messenger to the Gods. The Golden Eagle has been our country's official bird since January 20, 1950; it has many cousins flying the same skies as it, could it be possible that a new species of as-yet catalogued Eagle has joined them? For some, that is a yes; an odd-looking, but strikingly beautiful bird was seen flying the skies above the capital city three days ago, on the twenty-third of December.
"It was mostly mint-green in color. Very odd—the back of the crown and nape were a lighter green color, while the inner wings and tail were either a light-light green or gray color." a bystander, who saw the bird multiple times, said after being questioned about the bird.
"It didn't look full-grown, but it sure made a mess of them aliens." another bystander who saw the bird said upon being questioned about the bird.
The bird hasn't been seen since the twenty-third of December; a hunter's camera, set-up in the nearby northern Tegeler Forst, recorded it attacking one of the Gray Alien-like beings that's said to be responsible for Berlin's de-shielding. The footage from the camera shows the bird being grabbed by the wing and then thrown to the side; the alien that the bird was attacking was also recorded as kicking the bird a few minutes later. No further footage of the bird exists afterwards; it's presumed that the bird succumbed to the injuries that it sustained in the attack.
"While we mourn for the bird we also hope for another to show up." Anina Troeger, a scientist working at the Humboldt University of Berlin, said.
"It's possible that the bird had algae covering its feathers—the photographs that have surfaced over the last few days show a young bird, so it's possible that it just learned how to fly." Emil Ehrlich, a top scientist with the Humboldt University of Berlin, said on the bird. "It's very likely that the bird either fell into a lake or river during one of its flights or just mis-judged a swoop over a river or lake."
Whatever the case may be on the bird—real or algae-covered—, people are wondering when another will show up. Toys and other such memorabilia are said to be in the making of the bird; the first collection of Green Eagle merchandise will become available for purchase in a month to two months time.
From the Berlin Berliner Tageszeitung, January 7, 4101 (Page 3)
TV Film Depicting December 23 Berlin Chase Shown
The article from the Berliner Tageszeitung was promptly ripped in half before it was even read. One half of the article was thrown in the wastebasket, that was beside the black wicker chair, that had a cream and black striped pillow on its seat, while the other was crumpled and then thrown into the lit fireplace that was in front of the chair. The article tearer remained in the chair for all of ten minutes before standing; he ran a hand over the row of small horns that he had yet to shave from the sides of his forehead as he went towards the fireplace. Without saying a word, or making a sound, he tossed the other two articles in. He left the room afterwards.
There was a long, horizontal mirror in the hallway that he was now walking down. When he glanced at it, he saw that his face looked very angry which, in all honesty and respect, was exactly how he felt. A window of opportunity had opened up for him in taking over the government station of Germany and it stayed open for a right long time before closing up. Where was he during that finely given opportunity? On Gamma Vile; partying with a friend. Getting shit-faced drunk and indulging in things that his parents would, without a doubt, frown at.
No one told him about the shield over Berlin being taken down. Lynster was sleeping. Glog was in the kitchen, using his free-time to play some stupid card gave. Galong was with his family, and Nygiti was in an undisclosed location—a place that he neither cared to find out or know. Berlin, the capital of Germany, and the main area where Germany's government sat at, was vulnerable to attack from him for all of six hours before a new shield was put up. Just thinking about how close he was to claiming the seat of Germany's government as his made his stomach churn. Instead of piddle farting around, someone should of been keeping tabs on Europe and Eurasia—he could be ruling over Germany by now if Lynster wasn't sleeping or if Glog wasn't playing his stupid card game or if Nygiti wasn't doing what he was doing. Shit, he'd be ruling over Germany if he wasn't at Uecklurn Aomb's place.
"My uncle could of taken over Germany!" he thought angrily as he walked along. "Instead of pursuing that brat of his he could have claimed Germany as his—if he had the balls to, that is."
Thankfully, he had nothing to worry on family competition. No one in his family had any interest in taking Earth over as theirs or in dethroning him. All his family wanted were the four—or, scratch that, five—brats that were running amok and unsupervised in Europe.
He could of done so much with the opportunity that was available to him. Take over the capital of Germany, overthrow and change Germany's government, and dispose of one of the ill-bred brats that his uncle was pursuing. He'd of done it right in front of him uncle—the disposing of the brat would of been quick, then the resulting fight with the brat's sire would of been done just as quickly. He'd of sent his uncle back to his camp badly broken, bruised, and shamed if he knew about the situation that his uncle made in taking the shield over Berlin down. None of that happened. He partied. He got drunk and wasted all while an opportunity in adding territory to his reign was available.
That wasn't going to happen again! Not only had he ordered select, high-ranking members of his military to stand guard near certain areas, that were near the shields, that were over the cities and towns of Europe and Eurasia, but he also gave the order for Lynster, Galong, and Nygiti to keep constant watch of his family's camps. If anything abnormal was seen as happening in any of the camps that were stationed in the Rastatter Rheinaue nature reserve they were to report to him at once.
He went into the small bathroom, that was in the apartment, that he decided to reside in until the White House was more appropriately suited for him. Beside all the damage that his uncle and his damn Goblins did in October, the building was much too cheery and bright for him. He was having it re-done from scratch—an architect from Gamma Vile was already hard at work in re-working the building; no human hands were allowed to rebuild or reconstruct the building. His anger in his missing out on a golden conquering opportunity was nearly cracked in half after he started remembering the petitions that the humans started making—all of their skirts had come up in a bunch after word reached them about his getting an "other-worldly" architect to rebuild the White House from scratch. Four petitions were made and then signed and then sent to him in just two weeks time. They went in the same way that the articles that he read a few minutes ago had—in the fireplace. Burned to a crisp. None were read or acknowledged.
The White House was his building now. He had control of it, had won it by default, so he had all right in rebuilding or reconstructing it.
The cabinet that was under the sink contained a small, black, hand-held bag; he opened the cabinet doors then took it out. He set it beside the sink before opening it. There was nothing abnormal in the bag, just the gear that he used to groom himself with—two canisters of shaving cream; a pair of silver scissors, that were housed in their own grape-and-vine engraved sheath; his toothbrush, and a tube of fresh-mint toothpaste; a bar of pine-scented soap; a small jar of mouthwash; and the most important item of all: his sickle-shaped razor. All of these items he needed to keep his face in tip-top form; the small horns, that were on the sides of his forehead, were annoying. They itched from time to time, they made his appearance look off... and they weren't rooted to anything. They were just growths. Annoying little growths that needed to be gotten rid of. No one in his family knew about his horny growths; they always grew back overnight and he always found himself shaving—or scraping—them off in the morning, like he was about to do now.
He finished his morning routine in five minutes. He applied a good dollop of the soft, fluffy shaving cream to the sides of his forehead then he took the sickle-shaped razor from the bag. No blood was spilt and no pain was felt; he just scraped the horny growths from his head then went on to brushing his teeth. He washed his mouth out with the mouthwash afterwards. A quick shower followed; after stepping out from the shower, he went to the apartment's only room to dress in his usual attire—black pants, black belt, black socks, black shoes, black robe, his shoulder-wraps, and, lastly, his chest-plate. He was just grabbing his gold-colored gloves when his cellular went off; he grumbled as he snatched it up from the burrough that it was lying on.
"What?" he said after seeing that the number calling belonged to Lynster.
"There's activity going on near the cane-shaped ship, sir." Lynster said. "The guy that looks of the Zomo race looks to be leaving his camp—he has three others with him; all male. One looks like an adult while the other looks right young—your brother, Triskull, looks to be going with them."
"Have Nygiti follow them." he said before disconnecting his caller.
It did the same damn thing that it did on its maiden flight. The rotor blades started spinning slowly; it took the thing a full minute before it started "lifting" from the driveway. A low humming sound was heard; it grew louder as the thing gained altitude. A silent gasp escaped him after his two-week old Christmas present dropped back to the driveway. His Christmas present skidded along for all of ten seconds before gaining altitude again. It went up about two feet before dropping again.
Thoughts of his two-week old Christmas present smashing down to the driveway, gears and wheels and rotor blades and engine parts flying everywhere, and he dropping to his knees, fighting the sudden onslaught of tears, flooded his mind as the Avatar-styled, AT-99 Scorpion Gunship 4-Channel remote control combat helicopter dropped, rose, then dipped forward, then rose further up into the sky. This was only the fifth time that he had flown the remote-controlled helicopter; it took a full night for the thing to charge and it always started its flights like this.
The idea of picking a place out for it and then using it as a display in his room was thought of after the third flight; his mother had spent a lot of money on the thing and he liked it, but it was frustrating to fly it. If this wasn't his first remote-control helicopter he'd of done that—he was forcing himself to be patient. He might get the hang of the thing one day, and who said that the thing's bugs might not be worked out in a few more flights.
"Maybe it's a fluke." Lazeer said two nights ago, after he voiced his frustrations over how the thing flew. Everyone was at the table, eating supper, when he decided to speak of his fluey remote control helicopter.
"Was there a manual in the box?" his mother asked.
"Yes—there's nothing in it on whether or not its suppose to fly like that though."
"Give it two more flights. I have the receipt, the thirty-day period isn't yet over." his mother said. "If it continues to give you trouble in them two flights tell me—I'll take it back then exchange it for one that's better-working."
He didn't want a better-working remote-control helicopter. He wanted the one that he currently had to work like it should. Putting the thing together wasn't easy—normally, remote controlled devices were already put-together in the boxes; the helicopter that he was given had only been half put-together. There were so many parts involved in building the thing and, yes, there were a few screws missing in the box. It took him nearly three hours to get the thing built and then it took him nearly a full day to get the thing charged enough to fly; the first flight was nearly a disaster. His new helicopter came close to being destroyed on that first flight thanks to how it flew.
While he wouldn't say it out loud he had felt rather special after unwrapping the helicopter on Christmas morning—he was the only one of his brothers to receive a remote-controlled item. Their mother was fair in her Christmas shopping for them; a total of five gifts per child had come from her and all of them given gifts were awesome. The helicopter that he was trying to get the hang of was just one of those awesome given gifts. Besides the helicopter, he also got a radica Buckmasters Deer Hunter II hand-held electronic LCD game that was shaped like a rifle, a train model kit, and two discs of music from his mother; like his brothers, he felt on top of the world on that day and, regardless of the fact that one of his given gifts didn't seem to want to work right, he still felt like he was on top of the world.
He had enough damn model kits to keep him busy for a while so, if his helicopter did have to be taken back to the store, he'd be able to preoccupy himself with one of them until either a replacement was made or a different type of remote-controlled helicopter was purchased. Besides the train model kit that his mother had gotten him he also had a model kit of Galaxy Quest's N.S.E.A Protector, the 1999 Eagle Ultra Probe, and of Belle of Tortuga—the latter was a resin model figure of a female pirate. All of them models had come from Bile; he did plenty of ooo-ing and ah-ing at them after unwrapping them.
The sexy as hell resin model kits of Dracula and Miss. Lucy and of Jessica Rabbit were done in one day, while the resin model figure of the Crypt Keeper—which came complete with fake doll hair—was done in two days. Those models had come from Lhaklar—he also got him a cool as hell Weather-changing lamp and a wrist watch that had an animated tornado and light-up lightning bolt on the clock-face.
The models of Dracula and Miss. Lucy, Jessica Rabbit, Crypt Keeper, and Belle of Tortuga—the latter of which had taken him just two days to do—were all on display on one of the shelves that were up in the upper right corner of his room; he was forced to stop doing his models after completing the resin model kits of the naked man battling a Great Ape and of the glow-in-the-dark wingless flying dragon a few days later—those two models had come from Lazeer. The only reason why he was forced to stop doing his models was because he was running low of model paints and glue.
"Up, up, up and away she goes—where she flies, nobody knows!" Lazeer, who was just now stepping out from their house, said.
"Very funny, Little Brother." Hazaar sniffed.
"Showing everyone how gangsta you are this morning?" Lazeer asked his brother, who was wearing the black, zip-up hoodie, that had "The Man; The Myth; The Legend" in white on the back, that Guyunis gave him for Christmas.
"First time I've been allowed to wear it so yes, I am." Hazaar replied as he flicked the controls that were on the remote that was in his hands. The helicopter that was flying in the air swooped low, then did two loop-de-loops, before evening out.
"That's not true—you could of worn it three times last week." Lazeer said quickly.
"I'd of frozen my nips and nuts off if I had done so and you know it." Hazaar said back.
The helicopter flew up high, nearly over the roof of their house, then it suddenly fell. Hazaar worked feverishly to get it back to flying before it struck the ground; he was getting himself ready to rush forward to catch it when it suddenly gain altitude again. It flew back to its original height; it did two more turns before coasting down to the sidewalk that was in front of the house. After that near catastrophic flight, Hazaar didn't feel like flying the thing anymore. He felt like grabbing it up then going inside; his current attitude wasn't matched by the weather. It was right lovely outside. It wasn't snowing, it wasn't abnormally hot or freezing, and no rainstorms or thunderstorms were happening. It was the first, real good, decent day since Christmas and yet, here he was, feeling low and frustrated.
"Man! I don't know what's more fun to watch—you getting frustrated or you getting depressed." Lazeer said as he went to the landed helicopter.
"Think you can do any better?" Hazaar shot. He pushed the helicopter's bulky controller into his brother's hand then stepped back, away from the helicopter. "You try it—let's see how much better you can fly this thing."
Brother Put Down Session began and lasted for nearly five, agonizing minutes. Lazeer, who was very mechanically inclined, merely looked at the bulky controller before tapping one of the two analog sticks forward. The helicopter "bounced" up from the concrete walkway twice before becoming airborne; it went up and it stayed up. It neither threatened to fall nor fell the entire time his brother had control of the remote. The helicopter flew across the street then back; it flew over and then around the house twice before going down the street a ways before coming back. Lazeer finished the session by making the helicopter fly around the front yard three times. His brother had no problems at all in landing the helicopter; it was a smooth, effortless, obedient landing. Jealousy grabbed him in its clutches after the helicopter was landed. He glared at his brother then walked forward.
He snatched the controller out of his brother's hand then tried to fly the helicopter again; the same thing happened for him. The helicopter lifted from the sidewalk only to fall back down after reaching a height of eight inches; it skidded along on the sidewalk for all of ten seconds before gaining a two-foot altitude before falling again.
"Show off!" Hazaar spat.
"Just look at the controller—what you're doing wrong is very simple." Lazeer returned.
"What?" Hazaar came close to slugging a fist in his brother's direction; he hadn't understood a thing of what his brother had just said.
"You're pushing both the throttle and the direction sticks forward—push just the throttle forward, the helicopter'll fly then." Lazeer said.
He had to struggle to not pummel his brother's already half-swollen, half-bruised face into mush—Lazeer was right! That was all that he was doing wrong; a light tap on the throttle stick made the helicopter fly up while a tap on the direction stick made the helicopter go to either the left or right. Other than having to be told about how to use the two buttons, that were under the direction stick, he had full control of the craft; he started having fun with it at once. He flew it all around the house before flying it halfway up the street. It came back to him twenty seconds later. Lazeer was given a five minute turn that seemed to take forever; he took over in commanding the helicopter after them five minutes were up. He and his brother took three turns each in flying the helicopter before calling it a day. The craft's charge was low; it was starting to get cold out; and he had just spotted his mother's Porsche coming down the street. He flipped the switch that was on the side of the controller to the OFF-position after the helicopter was landed then he went towards the craft. He was just reaching the landed helicopter when his mother pulled into the driveway.
"Hello, boys." their mother said after getting out of her car. "Looking snazzy for the neighborhood girls or just trying to act macho?"
"Thought we'd break them in," Lazeer said. He gave the sides of his green and black, blood splattered hoodie a slight tug before going forward to see if he could help his mother in taking anything that was in the car into the house.
"Nothing in there, sweetie." their mother said. "All of this month's groceries are in the house—ready to be put away." she closed the door to her car then started up the walk, towards the house's front door. "Guyunis sure made off with a fine catch on them two coats you two are wearing."
"I love this coat—glad to finally have a chance to wear it." Lazeer said as he followed his mother back to the house.
"Same here—he's learning our "tastes" well." Hazaar joined in.
"And you are learning his." their mother said.
Except for the lack of Christmas decorations—all of which had long since been packed away for another year—, the house looked very normal on the inside. The Christmas decorations were taken down after New Year's and, much like their being put up, they were taken down in one day. That didn't mean that all of the hooplah of the holidays was gone though; Bile was in the living room, playing the Super Dendy game system with Guyunis. The game that they were playing was one of the new ones that Bile found at the local flea market a few months ago. Bile had actually found two game cartridges at the flea market; instead of announcing his find, he stashed them. Both games, Metal Gear and Rambo, were gifted to him—that didn't mean that he "owned" them, though. The game system that his two brothers were playing was a family system; he had no right in claiming any game system games as his and he had no right in keeping his siblings from playing one of the games on the console.
"Ma." Bile said after their mother walked across the open window that was between the living room and dining room "Hey! Ya cheatin' bastard!"
"Well, I'm glad that a sense of normality has returned to my roost." Angel said as she set to work in taking the groceries out of their bags.
And, by a sense of normality, she meant that she was glad that nothing amiss or abnormal was happening to dampen or stall their lives. Christmas had come close to not happening for them after what happened in Berlin between he, Lhaklar, and their famous old man. Their mother came close to needing to go to the hospital after hearing what happened; she complained about chest-pains for hours and she actually locked herself up in her bedroom for nearly a full day before coming out. She only left her room to replace the shield around Berlin; she went straight back to her room after the shield was returned over the capital city.
The drive from Berlin to Elchesheim-Illingen wasn't as long as Mr. Leinart had said it'd be. He used his teleportation ability to shorten the ride a little; they got back home in a little under three hours. Mr. Leinart had stuck to his promise about getting them a bite to eat—a small meal of fries and chicken tenders was ordered for him and his brother before he shortened their drive from Berlin—and he also stuck to his promise on getting Lhaklar a "pretty nurse". Lhaklar's left arm was severely fractured at the ulna and radius; the nurse that tended him had put his arm in splint. It was still in a splint to that day—he refused to let their mother heal him fully with her Healing Abilities.
Mr. Leinart, Mr. Ballal, and the pilot, a man by the name of Hans Seiderman, went back to Berlin about an hour after he and his brother were returned home. Martial law was called after they returned to the capital; Mr. Leinart hadn't had a chance to stop any news footage of the chase or on the shield being removed from the capital city. The local Berlin news had shown a newsreel of the helicopter chase, of their father falling out of the helicopter, of him and Mr. Leinart hanging out of the helicopter, and, finally, the helicopter crashing into the side of the shield; their mother freaked when she saw the footage! The news footage was the sealing point of what happened between him and his brother, Mr. Leinart, Mr. Ballal, and Mr. Seiderman.
He and his brothers hadn't been allowed to leave the neighborhood thanks to what happened between he, Lhaklar, and their famous old man. His being neighborhood-stuck was the main reason for why he didn't have anymore model paints or glue.
A tv film on the chase through Berlin was shown yesterday, at five o'clock. Newsreel footage of the helicopter chase was coupled with security footage from the Berlin Bahnof Einkaufszentrum, from the Deutsches Rheuma-Forschungszentrum, from the Klinik für Psychiatrie und Psychotherapie and the Berlin University of Medicine, from the Bundespressekonferenz e.V, and from hunters cameras to make an hour-long film of what happened in Berlin on the twenty-third of December. He and Lhaklar decided to not watch the film; they went through it, so there was no need for them to watch it. Their mother and brothers saw it though. Their reactions were mixed.
"And I also see that you're both wearing the watches that Lhaklar gave you." their mother said after all of the groceries were put away.
"Yes, ma'am!" Lazeer said. He held his wrist up. The watch that Lhaklar gave him, which had a transparent skeleton clock-face, had a black leather band on it. He came close to missing curfew a few times over the last two months; he was taking advantage of his goggled glass, so he wasn't really paying attention to the time. Lhaklar had gotten him the watch as a sort of aid—something to help him keep up with the time when he was out, either with friends or hunting or doing whatever.
"Saw that you was using your helicopter when I came in—is it still giving you grief?" Angel asked Hazaar.
"Nope—Lazeer helped me in getting it straight. It works fine now." Hazaar replied.
"That's wonderful," Angel said. She was about to say something else when Guyunis walked into the dining room. Whatever she was about to say was forgotten; she was instantly drawn to what their brother was wearing. "Now I know I'll have to keep my eyes on my boys with the girls—that jacket looks good on you, G."
Most of what their brother was wearing was new. The pair of black-colored, knee-high jeans, that had rips in the knees, and that were "frayed" at the seams, and the pair of rugged, black leather combat boots, both of which had come from their mother, were new. The pair of studded wrist guards, which came from Lhaklar, were also new. Lhaklar had also gotten Guyunis two packs of socks for Christmas; they knew that Guyunis was wearing a pair of those too. No shirts were purchased or given to Guyunis for Christmas—none of them knew if shirts were his style; ever since his adoption, they hadn't ever seen him wearing a shirt. Bile had gotten Guyunis a faux, dark brown crocodile leather belt, that had a fake crocodile head on the buckle, for Christmas; Guyunis wasn't wearing the belt. Instead, his usual "chain-belt" was around his waist.
Guyunis looked about ready to leave the house. He was wearing the jacket that Bile gave him for Christmas—a real nice, black leather one that had chains on it. Guyunis placed his thumbs on his shoulders for a second after their mother spoke to him; he smiled then flicked his thumbs forward before doing a turn in the dining room. He was showing off; his black hair flew from one of his shoulders to the next as he turned. Hazaar and Lazeer both noticed that their brother was also wearing his usual chains around his shoulders and chest—the shine from the chains was unmistakable. Even their mother could see that he was wearing them.
Guyunis was taken aback by all of the gifts that he found for himself under the tree two weeks ago—he hadn't expected for them to go so far out for him. He had to be prodded to open a few of his presents by their mother; it took him five or six presents before getting fully in on the excitement. Naturally, their mother opened her presents last. He and his brothers opened theirs first; their mother sat by with a wide smile on her face the entire time.
"Doing as your brothers are in breaking that jacket in or are you planning on heading out?" their mother asked Guyunis.
"Both," Guyunis answered. He quickly retracted what he said. "Er, I mean. If i-k-t's okay with you, mum."
"Don't see why you can't head out for a while—just stay inside the shield and don't wander far." their mother said back.
"Think I can turn you into a courier?" Hazaar asked.
"No," Guyunis replied.
"Damn."
"Why you wantin' to me turn in-k-to a courier?" Guyunis asked.
"Need model paints and glue—for my models, y'know." Hazaar replied. He then looked at his mother. "Unless I'm allowed to go out too."
"I don't think so—you need to steer clear of doing any heavy-duty walking for a while longer." their mother said.
"Think you can pick some model paints and glue up for me, too?" Lazeer asked. "I'm also running low."
He could of said no. He could of said that he didn't want to be turned into a courier. He could of said a lot of things but, instead, he said that he would and he also said that his bruder's didn't have to pay him back on the paints or glue that he got for them. Hazaar and Lazeer thanked him, then gave him a "crude" list of the colors that they needed/wanted him to get for them; he decided to just get them three jars of each color—it seemed that they needed all of the known colors of the rainbow anyways.
After getting their lists, he went upstairs; to Lhaklar's room. He and Bile had finished their game. The console was a little warm; it needed a break. Bile went up to his room to listen to some of the tunes that were on the discs of music that he got on Christmas; he decided to head out for a little stroll in town. He grabbed his "chained" coat from his closet, then he came down to the dining room to see if it was okay for him to go out. Getting model paints and glue for his bruders hadn't been on his mind at all, but he was willing to go out of his way to get them what they needed for their models—he was also low on model paints and glue, so it was also time for him to do a re-stock too. Since he was to make a pit-stop for his younger bruders, he decided to go on and ask Lhaklar if he needed anything for his un-built models too.
When he reached Lhaklar's bedroom, he didn't think of the common courtesy gesture of knocking before entering; he just grabbed the knob that was on the closed bedroom door, then twisted it, then pushed the door in. Lhaklar, who had the book that Hazaar gave him on Christmas in one of his hands, practically leaped from his bed a second later. He groaned then turned to leave; walking in on one of your bruders when he was looking to get a boner from reading something that had pornographic material in it was not cool!
"Guyunis... wait."
He stopped on cue then, after a few seconds of standing in place, turned around. He went into Lhaklar's bedroom slowly then started looking around; Lhaklar had since gotten up from his bed. The book that he was reading/looking at was still open. It was still on his bruder's bed.
Lhaklar was very different in comparison to Bile and Hazaar; while there were a few similarities, there were also a lot of differences and it was very easy to tell these differences by simply looking around at the stuff that was displayed in his bedroom.
The bed that Lhaklar asked for in July had a reclaimed timber pine frame to it. It was pushed up against the wall; the room's window was just five inches from the foot of the bed. A half-charred, half-reclaimed pine wood stump was to the left of his bruder's bed; a white flexi lamp, that one could bend in all sorts of directions or forms, was on the stump-table's surface. The water-filled alarm clock, that was beside the lamp, was a nice piece of work. There was a little bit of space between the stump-table and the room's top left corner. A timberland Cedar log dresser, that had six drawers on it, was to the right of the room; the big screen tv that Mr. Leinart went out of his way to order for his bruder in July was above that. A medium-sized King Mackerel, a fish that had an olive coloration on the back, that faded to a silver color, with rosy iridescence on the sides, that faded yet again to a white color on the belly, was mounted on the wall above the big screen tv—his bruder had actually caught five of that type of fish on the last day that they were in Egypt. He went to South Africa to do his fishing; when he came back to their cave, he was tired, but very happy.
A rather pretty Coral Trout, a multi-red and orange colored fish that had lots of pink, purple, and black dots on its sides, was to the right of his bruder's bedroom window; his bruder actually caught six of that type of fish during one of his nighttime conducted fishing excursions. He was dog-tired when he returned to the cave that they were living in at the time. A rather impressive Bezoar Ibex rack was under the preserved Coral Trout. The super long horns that were on the brightly polished piece of wood curved almost all the way around; there were distinct ridges on both of them. While the Bezoar Ibex was a native animal of Turkey, Lhaklar didn't catch the specimen whose horns he had kept there. The Ibex that he caught was living in the Florida Mountains that were located in New Mexico; the animal was introduced to the area by the humans in 1970 and, according to his bruder, the animals had adapted, bred, and established themselves very well in the area.
Lhaklar was actually grounded after going to New Mexico; he hadn't received permission from their mutter before going. He wasn't allowed to hunt for two weeks after being grounded.
A poster that had a fisherman on it, that was trying to reel in a seemingly large bass, was beside the mounted Coral fish and Bezoar Ibex rack; the caption that was under the fisherman image simply said that A Fisherman Brings Home Wonderful Sea Tales; Both Of The True And Of The Fake Sort. Can You Detect A Fisherman's Ruse? While he didn't understand the meaning of the poster he did know that a lot of fishermen told tall-tales to mask up either an unsuccessful fishing excursion or to make a small catch seem more colorful.
A brown oak corner desk and chair were in the room's lower left corner; there were two shelves above the desk that had two mason jars, model paints, and glue on them. A half-completed, silver and red-colored, 2012 Bufori MKIII La Joya was on the desk's surface. A contemporary oak bookcase, that had five shelves on it, was five feet from the corner desk; most of his bruder's smaller hunting trophies were on it.
Lhaklar was the only one of his bruder's to actively display his sword during the last few months; the rest of his other bruders had kept theirs hidden, but they had intentions of displaying them on their bookcases. Up to a month ago, Bile's, Hazaar's, and Lazeer's swords had remained hidden under the ground, in their special-made boxes; now that he had his own sword, they had their swords on display in their rooms. Lhaklar's sword, which he called The Glass Sword, was on the bookcase's top shelf; it had its own display stand, which was keeping it very nicely balanced on the shelf. Lhaklar's mini stereo and speakers, CDs, and magazines were on the bookcase's second shelf; the third shelf had a few books on it. Lhaklar's wand was also displayed on the third shelf; it was resting on its very own brown wood stand.
"You still read them books?" he asked after noticing that there was a little bit of dust on the shelf that the books were on.
"Yes," Lhaklar replied.
The fourth shelf that was on his bruder's bookcase had a preserved Meerkat, a small Mongoose-looking animal that had a long, slender body and a face that tapered off, coming to a point at the nose, which was brown. The preserved animal's eyes were small, black, and crescent-shaped; they had black patches around them. The animal was a mostly peppered-gray color; it had four toes on the ends of each of its long, slender legs. He and his family had actually gotten sick of eating Meerkat meat while in Africa—Lhaklar was able to catch a whole clan of fifteen Meerkats; they ate all but one in a week. A well-furred, rotund Hyrax, that had a short tail and red-brown fur, was beside the Meerkat; his bruder was able to catch ten of the eight pound, twenty inch animals when they were living in Africa. There were four model cars beside the preserved Hyrax; the Jaguar X150 DHC and the 1935 Duesenberg SSJ that Bile found at the Au am Rhein dump on the twenty-fifth of September, a blue-colored 1928 Mercedes-Benz SSK convertible, and a red-colored 1969 model Ford Mustang—the latter, of which, looked like it needed a new home; it was all squished up against the side of the shelf.
The last shelf of his bruder's bookcase had three trophies on it. A preserved Mohol bushbaby, a small primate that had grayish-brown fur, that was lighter on the limbs and trunk, over-sized ears, and a long tail; a Shoebill, a mostly brown bird, that had an unusually large bill, that was mostly yellow with blue and black dots on it; and a Pardine Genet, an animal that had a long, lean and slender body that had a series of dark spots and stripes over a near-white coat. Lhaklar had actually caught ten of the Mohol bushbaby's and, much like the fifteen Meerkat's that he caught, they had gotten sick of eating that type of meat quick. The three, fifteen-pound Shoebill's that his bruder caught had kept them fed for a while; they enjoyed that meal. The three Pardine Genet's had kept them fed for a few days; all three of the animals that were on the bookcase's last shelf were caught in Africa.
"The Art of the Run," he read after walking up to the bookcase then giving the nine books that were on the bookcase's third shelf a looking over. "Acidic Advancement, Zetakin Race Powers and Abilities, History of the Universe, Time Warp and Other Specialty Powers, 1000 Years of Classic Cars, Wiley's Book of Fish Records, Fishermen Tales Volume 2, and Gone Fins: The Fish That No Longer Exist." he smiled after reading the titles of all the books that were on the shelf then turned around. "Where's the book on Advanced Fla-k-tulance?"
"Didn't see any books on farting in my father's vast library, and none of my kooky brothers must of found a book on farting during their Christmas shopping last month." Lhaklar replied. He chuckled at this joke that he had grown accustomed to hearing over the last few months.
"T-k-hat fish for sale yet?" Guyunis asked after his eyes landed on what he called the Catch of the Century.
One would have to either be blind or plain uninterested in anything that was over-the-top cool or interesting to not notice the fish that was to the left of his bruder's bedroom door. It was a large fish, about two and a half feet long; the skin was a mixture of green, yellow, gray, and brown on top while the belly was white. What made the fish go into the over-the-top category was the teeth; the fish, a Goliath Tiger Fish, that Lhaklar caught in Africa's well-known Congo River Basin, had near two-inch long teeth in its large mouth! Lhaklar caught three of these fish; he did a lot of complaining after getting back to their then-resident cave about how his arms were burning him. They did nothing but gawk at the three fish that he brought in. Nearly all were the same size; one was a little darker than the other two, but all of them had very sharp and impressive teeth in their mouths. Lhaklar had kept the bigger of the three fish that he caught on that day so many months ago; he had gotten it preserved by a taxidermist in Europe a week after catching it.
The fairly smooth, multi-curved horn set that was above his bruder's bedroom door belonged to the Barbary sheep; while the animals were native to Africa's rocky mountains, the one that the horns belonged to hadn't been caught there. Lhaklar had chased three of the animals into a carefully set trap in Oregon in early April. Like the Bezoar Ibex, the Barbary sheep was introduced to North America and southern Europe by the humans some time ago. Lhaklar was grounded after going to Oregon; he hadn't received permission from their mutter to go there. He did no hunting or fishing for two weeks after catching the Barbary sheep.
"The fish, the Bison head, and the Bighorn sheep head are not for sale." Lhaklar said quickly, with a dash of defense added in for flavor. "You can look, but don't get any ideas in that head of yours about sneaking in here to steal them."
He snickered then looked at the latter two items that Lhaklar had just spoken about; the Bison head, that was to the right of his bruder's dresser and big screen tv, was very big and impressive. He was surprised that his bruder's wall could take the thing's weight; he was quite sure that the head alone was heavy. The shaggy, light brown fur, that was on and around the face of the animal, was coarse, but beautiful; the horns were short, but brilliantly sharp. They curved slightly and had a length of nearly two feet. Lhaklar had worked hard to catch the animal that's head was on his bedroom wall; he tracked down, then chased, one lone animal in Utah in early May. After corning the animal, he battled it. His arms were all cut up and bleeding, and one of his legs was punctured by one of the animal's horns, but he was happy over his hunt; the animal was in a very grassy clearing in Utah, a state that his bruder had gotten permission to go to. The Bison was a fully grown animal and it gave Lhaklar a sure run for his money.
The Bighorn sheep head that was on the other side of his bruder's dresser and big screen tv was just as impressive as the Bison head. The head, that was on the wall, was a grayish-brown color; the horns that the animal had on it were large. They curved in a near perfect circle. Lhaklar had caught two Bighorn sheep after getting permission to go to Oregon; they ate the female animal that he caught while the male animal was only partially eaten. The head was cut from the animal; Lhaklar sent that to a taxidermist in Colorado. He saw to preserving the animal's pelt himself. The Bighorn sheep's pelt was lying across the baseboard of his bruder's bed; except for the white patch that was at the pelt's base or rump area, the entire pelt was a grayish-brown color.
A three foot tall Gray crowned crane stood at the foot of his bruder's bed; the main body of the bird was mainly gray while the wings were mainly white. The head of the bird had a crown of stiff, golden-colored feathers on it; the sides of the bird's face were white. There was a red, inflatable throat patch on the bird's throat. While the bill was slim and short, the legs were long; both were black in color. The bird's feet were large, yet slender. The bird was caught in Africa on one cloudy, miserable day; Lhaklar caught it and an Ostrich. Since the family was famished on that day, his bruder wasn't able to keep the Ostrich. He was allowed to keep the Gray crowned crane as a trophy though.
While he, Bile, Hazaar, and Lazeer had either small game or large game animal trophies in their rooms Lhaklar was the only one who had birds and fish in his and that was what made him different from them. The risks that he took in his hunts, along with some of the injuries that he came back with having after finishing his hunts, and his going to specific places to hunt without asking their mum for permission first, was another thing that set Lhaklar apart from him and his bruders; they did a lot of head shaking after he came back from his hunts with either bleeding wounds or broken bones. With their being five hunters in the family providing for the family, he really shouldn't of gone so far out of his way or been so careless in his hunts. Their mum had chided him a lot after he came back from his hunts; she hadn't much liked how he conducted his hunts.
"How do you not spoof your pan-k-ts with that in your room!" Guyunis exclaimed after his eye landed on the bodacious babe, that was on the poster, that was pinned to the back of Lhaklar's closet door. The model that was on the poster was wearing absolutely nothing; she was lying on her stomach on a beach somewhere. Her legs were spread; her arms were holding her top half up just a bit, so a tiny bit of her pink-colored nipples could be seen. The model's blonde hair was partially braided; whatever wasn't braided was wavy. The model's green eyes were very seductive.
"Eat your heart out, Bro—she's nice ain't she?"
"Dude! She's a bombshell!"
The poster of a woman wearing a white shirt that barely covered her breasts was pinned to the wall above his bruder's bed; the woman, another blonde, but this one having very serious blue eyes, had a shotgun pointed out at the room. The caption that was under the model said All Who Enter Must Admit To Who The Boss Is In This House. While the poster wasn't as shocking as the one that had the fully naked woman that was lying on the beach on it, it still had the desired effect; Lhaklar liked acting like the man of the house—the daddy or the male-leader—, the poster emphasized that fact perfectly. The aluminum sign that he gave his bruder for Christmas was right beside that poster; the sign was silver and black with gold lettering that simply said I Have A Job—I'm Exempt From the Rules.
"So, what was it that brought you to see me?" Lhaklar, who automatically took on an adult-sounding voice, asked.
"Huh?" Guyunis said. He was immersed in looking at the poster that had the woman lying naked on a beach on it. "Oh... uh... well, was just comin' up to see if you needed anything-k for your models. I'm going in-k-to town—Hazaar and Lazeer have asked me to pick up some stuff for them, so I figured that I'd best come up and see if you needed anything-k too."
"Guess that's a good enough reason for you to be interrupting me getting a hard-on," Lhaklar said. He punched Guyunis in the shoulder then went over to his corner desk. He checked his supplies quickly while Guyunis stole over to the still-open book that was on his bed. "I do need a few colors—mostly red, yellow, black, and blue."
"I'll see abou-k-t gettin' those for you soon." Guyunis said. Lhaklar turned around at once. He was moderately surprised to see his adoptive brother looking at the pages of the book that he left open on his bed.
"I'm charging you for each page that you look at, Bro." Lhaklar said as he walked over to his bed.
Not all of what they were given for Christmas was under the tree. Lhaklar woke up to find the Mirror Carp and Zander that he caught on the eighth of November on the wall to the right of his bedroom door; their mutter, who claimed to of used both in her cooking, had obviously sent them to a taxidermist to be preserved for him. He was ecstatic over finding them on his wall; their mutter had practically been scooped up in a big ol' hug five minutes after he saw them.
The book that his bruder was reading when he barged in was another gift that wasn't under the tree. Hazaar found a book that was mostly pornographic in nature in a bookstore in November; he had originally planned to keep it as his but, at the last moment, he decided to give it to Lhaklar. The book was mostly full of images of naked or semi-naked women; there were a few paragraphs to each page that described certain female practices that men found sexy or appealing. The book was the last thing given to his bruder on Christmas; Hazaar had "slipped" it to him after breakfast. Lhaklar had spent nearly an hour reading/looking at it before going on to doing something else.
"You don't have t-k-o worry about getting-k dirty magazines anymore—this makes a hundred magazines." he said as he stepped away from the book.
"Came close to deciding to not get any dirty magazines this month." Lhaklar admitted.
He left Lhaklar's room then, after giving it a thinking-over, decided to go on and get Bile some model paints and glue too. Bile had also gotten some models for Christmas and, while he wasn't as interested in doing models as he and his bruders were, he was building them. Slowly.
Before leaving the house, he went to his bedroom; he grabbed his old hoodie from his closet, then deducted €20 out from the allowance that he was given earlier that month, then grabbed the new wallet that Hazaar gave him for Christmas. The wallet that he was stuffing into the back of his new pants was the first wallet he had ever owned in his life; while the red-brown leather was normal, the zebrawood bifold that was on the front flap was unique. He liked the wallet a lot. He started using it at once.
There was a small arts and crafts store in town; he went to it quickly then purchased the paints and glue that he and his bruders needed for their models. He sent all of what he purchased home; his bruders would find their paints and glue waiting for them on either their desks or their dressers a little later on. After doing that little task he got down to doing what he really wanted to do in his outing: exercise—do a little walking and jogging—and, of course, show off for the girlies.
The awful experience that he had with that woman that he met at Oktoberfest II had deterred his want of spending "quality" time with females for only a little while. Ottilie had tried to use him; she had only played being interested in him. When they got to the parking lot, she only wanted a quickie—the hop in then hop out routine—then she wanted him to follow her back to the fair—which he had stupidly done. She pulled the "poor girl who can't throw a thing" routine afterwards; he played two games for her, and won her two fairly big stuffed toys, before figuring her out. They parted ways afterwards—agitation and disgust were the reason for why he wandered into the fair's parking lot. He was attacked right after he saw what was going on between Bile and Lhaklar and that other guy. It took him nearly a month and a half before scrounging up the want to spend time with a female companion—he learned from his experience; the last companion that he slept with hadn't used him and they went the whole way.
The sky was overcast when he started his walk/jog; it stayed that way until he started going down a side-street that was flanked on one side by buildings. The field that on the other side of the street had tall, yellow grass in it. The shield was close-by, but he neither took notice of it or of the fact that he had more than human eyes watching him. A few whistles and cat-calls were sent his way after the sun came out; he didn't know what shone more brightly on his coat—the chains, which were jingling slightly, or the black leather fabric that the chains were sewn into. The temperature, which was fifty-one degrees when he left home, went up a degree or two for a few minutes before dropping back down. He ran on for a mile before stopping right where the shield was closest to the street. He felt very content and pleased with himself; he received some complimentary whistles and cat-calls from several females during his run and he also received some comments from the same gender on what he was wearing too. He turned around after finishing his run; he stood in place for a minute or two before starting back up the street. He had just gone halfway back up the street when he noticed that he had company walking alongside him.