Gregor and Nibbler's Plight
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I hope that we can extend those lists.
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If you see,
o0o
In this story, it doesn't represent a time break, merely a moment of contemplation.
Hello, cruel world! Nice to see ya again. I, of course, would like to sincerely thank everyone who has encouraged and supported The Customized Chronicles down the long road it's traveled. I was surprised at the positivity that the last installment received. If I were to single someone out, I would like to give a special thanks to Bryson King, for the help he's been so far, giving me ideas and letting me run them by him and such. Also, don't forget to check out the quote at the end! And thank you all! For anything, and everything you do for this story. Whether it's just reading it, Favoriting, Following or Reviewing on it. Thank you and,
God Bless.
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Without Further Delay, I Present To You,
Gregor and the Nibbler's Plight Customized,
Part 1
Family Is Everything. Sadly, Family Often Goes Awry. Don't Let It.
Gregor gave a wry smiled as Lizzie handed him her doughnut. It was powdered, signatured with a few fingerprints, but screened safely in a brown napkin.
"I don't want it," his sister told him, shrugging one shoulder nonchalantly. "Take it to Ripred."
Mrs. Cormaci shook her head. "There's a whole world of creatures down there having a hard time; they had the plague, they don't have enough to eat, somebody's attacking them— How come you're giving your doughnut to some smart-alecky rat who's the only one who can take care of himself?"
Lizzie gave a small sigh that inexplicably howled, 'I'm twelve and I understand this, why can't you?' It was perceived as indignation though. It was a bit hard to portray the girl as anything frustrating.
"Because I think he's lonely," said Lizzie softly. Gregor gave her a small smile. Leave it to Lizzie to see through Ripred's individualist persona he seemed to love so much.
"I think that you are exactly right," Gregor told her faintly. She blinked in surprise.
When Gregor had visited the Overland for the first time, about six months ago, it had been rather awkward. Of course, Gregor hadn't just popped in, he'd been invited by his father. Seventeen times. Okay, sure, maybe Gregor was a little nervous about it. He'd admit that. He and his father already knew a lot about each other, as well as him and Boots. But Lizzie— not so much. Even when she'd been young, before Gregor had fallen into the Underland, she had been wickedly smart. He had dreaded returning and having to explain to Lizzie how he'd left. Why he hadn't returned. That he was a player in four disastrous prophecies. That he had a Halflander brother.
He'd been pleasantly surprised when, while they'd had a serious talk in private, she tried her best to implement him as if he'd never left. Of course, there would always be gaps, things Gregor didn't remember from the Overland, things Lizzie didn't know of from the Underland. But suffice it to say, they'd bonded rather well, considering the situation. Of course, while her occasional panic attacks make this sound rather ironic, Lizzie wasn't one to freak out. She looked at a situation, evaluated it, and decided the best course of action. Unless of course, unfortunately, she was having trouble breathing. Keeping her quizzical nature in mind, he had answered her questions as best he could.
1 – That the main reason he hadn't returned was because of financial problems. Even his five-year-old brain had recognized the lack of money their family had possessed. Of course in the present, with much insistence from Gregor, they'd taken every bit of money from the museum he could find. It didn't make them rich, they still had to live in their New York apartment, but they were better off than usual. They could go out to eat on a whim, but toys for Boots, stuff like that.
2 – Yes, the prophecies were done with and yes, there were plenty more. She'd been rather disappointed though when he could only tell her a few. It was rather odd, he thought, but it was the law. If someone is the subject of a prophecy, they may only see the prophecy when it is assumed to be arising. Their reasoning was that seeing the prophecy early will only bring more death. Gregor honestly didn't understand how that made sense at all but, you know. Regalians. He thought it'd be better if the subject of the prophecy could prepare, but it was such an old and ancient law, (Bartholomew of Sandwich himself wrote it in) that there wasn't a hope for him to change it. There'd be to much anger. Anger leads to Outrage. Outrage leads to bloodshed. That was the last option. Luckily, he'd read some of the prophecies before the Regalians had declared him the warrior. The Prophecy of Gray. The Prophecy of Bane. The Prophecy of Blood. The Peacemaker. Stuff like that.
3 – No, Hazard was not her step-brother. In the Underland, a sibling-like adoption applied to the applicants only. Basically, Gregor was Hazard's brother, Hazard was Gregor's brother, and that's it. Nothing else.
Anyways, back to the present. Gregor had not encouraged Lizzie's sympathy toward Ripred, hence her surprise, but he had not dissuaded it. He knew she was intelligent enough to formulate her own opinion, and he was going to let her do just that. That didn't mean, however, he wouldn't agree with her when she said one of those intelligent.
He continued, "Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is one of the most terrible poverties. You'd do well to remember that Liz," Lizzie nodded. No one even batted an eyelid. It was relativity normal when Gregor was visiting, for him to say stuff that stuck out like a sore thumb. Now, if he said something 'normal' it stuck out like a sore thumb.
"Well, you've got an awfully big heart for such a little girl," said Mrs. Cormaci, giving her a squeeze. "Go brush your teeth so you don't miss the bus."
Lizzie hurried off, evidently excited for school. Gregor shook his head. He had never been excited about his studies. Of course, they'd usually private, and long into the night, but nevertheless. He turned to the rest of the occupants of the kitchen. Boots was just finishing up her breakfast, fruit loops. Mrs. Cormaci was straightening the girl's curly hair, but they were defiant as ever. Gregor smirked when she turned her back. Very fitting of Boots personality, her hair was. Crazy. Unpredictable. And, dare he say it, annoying at times. But if it wasn't as it was, something would feel out of place.
His dad was reading a newspaper, in his suit and tie, ready for work. In the modern world, he seemed out of place. He refused to read the paper on his phone, which he was also very reluctant to purchase. He'd gotten a job at Lizzie's school though, as the science teacher; He seemed to love it.
With a cursory glance at the clock above the stove, Gregor saw he had an hour until his echolocation lesson with Ripred. After that, Gregor planned to visit his mother, maybe go for a ride with Ares. Today should be good— after his lesson with Ripred, of course. He was much more tolerant than other of the rat, but that didn't mean he enjoyed his lessons. Getting smacked around in the dark doing something you can barely use, while a fat rat with some cool powers sends you derogatory remarks? Not his idea of a fun get-together.
"You better get going if you want to meet that rat on time," said Mrs. Cormaci.
"Boots, Ready to go?" said Gregor.
"Just getting my shoes on!" she exclaimed. Unlike Lizzie, who couldn't think about going there without almost having a panic attack, Boots loved the Underland. "Are we staying for dinner? Will I get to visit Luxa as well?"
Gregor could not resist plastering a small smile upon his face. He was glad that Boots was so fond of the queen of Regalia. It'd be a bit awkward if not.
"Yes," said Gregor, as Boots returned to the kitchen. The eight, almost nine-year-old wore a light pink t-shirt and jeans. The jeans had marker streaks covering each leg and were chaffed at the bottom, where they'd no doubt been tread on beneath her shoes. Her eyes were alight with excitement, and a glint of imagination. Gregor remembered when he'd first met her in the Underland. Fear shone in her eyes, frantically darting to meet the Regalian guards surrounding her. She'd seemed so relieved when she saw Gregor, as he ordered the guards away with a snap. Not a literal snap of course. Just a— Oh, you get the point.
His consciousness swiveled to monitor the end of the quest that sprouted from their meeting. Boots had been sick, lying faintly on Temp's back. Gregor's teeth had clenched, grinding together in a slow raking sound only he could hear, as the king of the Gnawers mocked the group. Indisposed of Gox with a quick slash of his tail in appalling satisfaction. Gregor had charged Gorger and soared over him as he crossed a line. He'd threatened his sister.
Once again, he found his mind reeling to a stop facing a separate memory. Boot's death. Or, supposed death, anyway. He remembered the feeling of ice, enveloping his skin. Crawling over him. Tempting him, telling him to give up. His sister was dead. His sister was dead. His sister was dead. He'd pushed it off. Rerouted it.
And then Ares had returned. With no word from Boots. Or Luxa. Aurora. Temp. Gregor had made a split-second decision. Give in, let the ice take over or Refuse to believe the 'truth'. He'd thought that his choice was noble. Strong. To accept and forge on. He was Wrong. Wrong with a capital W. He was weak. Because our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time. At least one more.
The next few memoirs passed quickly, As if accepting that they paled in comparison to that dreadful moment in the tankard. Gregor was panicked as Boots sat on a large rock, smiling down at the speckled frogs encompassing her. Boots was press tightly between himself and Ripred, running through deadly, dismembering plants. He had not noticed it at the time, but looking back, he could feel her shaking in fear beneath him. Scared. Very much like the next scene.
As he pushed her onto Aurora, a look of panic was in her beautiful brown eyes. Beside Lizzie, Boots didn't get much recognition for being smart. In fact, Gregor was surprised at her humbleness. Many other kids, he was sure, would have hated having Lizzie, always outshining you in academics. Boots didn't seem to mind though. He knew that she was still slightly intelligent for her age. If nothing else, she had amazing survival instincts; either that or incredible luck. How else would she have survived her time in the Underland? As he recollected her orbs usually filled with sunshine, he saw fear. And yet, he recognized a glimmer of understanding and determination. She looked with worry at her brother, about to either commence carnage or become the victim of carnage. She'd given him a small smile he'd ignored at the time, but now he saw it laced with encouragement.
Gregor knew, with every ounce of his being, that his sister would always stand by his side. She made not wield a blade or bow, but she brandished something so much more. Something that existed only in our most important parts; our hearts. Something that is so important, people give up on explaining it. They don't try as much as other aspects of life. They enjoy it. Leeched from it, things that fueled us. Strength. Courage. Determination. Perseverance. Surely you can guess what that is by now? You can have a hint— It sure as hell isn't hate.
Love.
Don't you just love that word? No pun intended, but seriously. It just rolls off the tongue with such grace that the mere mention of it to one surrounded by it lifts spirits. It's so influential, that it creates hesitance, Creates fear, that if you speak it, it will not be spoken back. Well then, think of it this way. If you don't try, you'll never know. Cliché, I know, but clichés are very often right. Or they are wrong. It's kind of like Russian roulette with words. That is one of the best parts of life though, isn't it? Taking chances, playing Russian roulette with your life. Of course, real Russian roulette is with your life but— whatever. You get the point. Right now, Gregor needed to focus on his life.
"Here," said Mrs. Cormaci. She thrust a bowl of macaroni salad at him. "You may as well take this to the rat."
Gregor frowned. "Why? Is it old?"
"I was about to throw it out, anyway. I think the mayonnaise is starting to turn bad. But I doubt he'll care," said Mrs. Cormaci. "Wait, let me find a paper bag. I don't want that rat licking my bowl."
Gregor smiled and shook his head. She could make that big speech about Lizzie sending Ripred stuff, but she was just as bad. Or good, you could say.
"You're reminding me of Liz," he commented.
"Well, maybe she's right. That rat, what's he got? No real home, no family, he has to fight all the time. You know, everybody needs a little joy in their life." said Mrs. Cormaci. Gregor sighed.
"It doesn't help that he had a family. They died in a ludicrous fight for some apple trees," said Gregor. "That's one of the things I'll fix."
Mrs. Cormaci gave him a firm nod. "Well, you can't do that if your sitting here, now can you. Let's get going already, I'll look out."
Gregor nodded in assent, and lead the way down the stairs. He'd had to let go of Boots' hand, to hold the macaroni salad, so instead, she was idly running her hand along the wall. He would have stopped her, told her she'd get a cut but thought better of it. She had to learn to make those decisions by herself. Do or don't run your hand along a wall cracked so bad it looks like a war scene. Hmm. I wonder. It turned out he didn't have to worry about the wall though when Boots let out a squeak of,
"Ow!" She snatched her hand away from a beaten looking red box on the wall. Gregor ignored what he now recognized as a fire extinguisher container, and knelt by his sister.
"Did you cut yourself?" he asked. She sucked on her forefinger with a frown.
"Yeah. I'm fine," said Boots. Gregor nodded and scowled at the metal box mounted on the wall. He hoped Boots had gotten her tetanus shots.
"Alright," said Gregor. "Do you think you'll need a bandage when we arrive at Regalia?" Boots just shrugged, so Gregor let it go. He knew that when he was her age he liked to handle stuff on his own. He didn't like to be babied.
They soon arrived at the laundry room, with Mrs. Cormaci studiously guarding the door. It only took a quick whistle for Nike to appear in the now open grate.
"Hello Princess," said Nike.
"Hello Princess," said Boots. They both cracked up. Gregor didn't really understand the humor in this, especially after the (excuse my childishness) kabilliotrillion time. He didn't comment though. Happiness was something he wouldn't suck from anyone at the moment. Well... Did he want to be tardy for Ripred's lesson?
"Okay, come on Princesses, or I'll be late," said Gregor.
Nike shuddered playfully. "I would not force being a late student of Ripred's on anyone," she said. "Yes, let us go." Gregor turned to Mrs. Cormaci.
"Thank you, Mrs. Cormaci," he said. He was rather surprised to find that his family had confided all about the Underland into the old woman, but thankful as well. apparently after that, she'd taken it upon herself to be the families unofficial caretaker. He couldn't thank the old woman enough for that. She just waved her hand though.
"What else am I gonna do? Stand around groaning about my life? You'd better get going." said Mrs. Cormaci.
The ride down the tube, through the dark stone tunnels, and to the brightly lit palace in Regalia was uneventful. Sadly, he was a little behind schedule because of him retrieving the macaroni salad, and Boots' cut. The minute they landed in the High Hall, Gregor had to run to his lesson. There was not even time to pop his head in and see his mom as he sprinted down the steps past the hospital level. Deep in the palace, Gregor removed four thick stone bars that secured a heavy door and slipped through it, leaving the door slightly ajar for his return. His feet carried him down multiple sets of stairs. The Regalian council (It still annoyed him that he had to 'consult' these things with them. he couldn't wait until his 18th birthday.) had reluctantly agreed for his lessons to take place here where he was theoretically still inside the city limits, but where Ripred's presence could remain unknown to almost all of the was waiting for Gregor in their usual meeting place, a large circular cave off a set of stairs. The rat was lounging against a wall, gnawing on some kind of bone. He squinted when Gregor's flashlight beam hit him and gave a snarl.
"Get that out of my eyes! How many times do I have to tell you?"
Gregor redirected the beam but didn't bother answering. Even in the shadowy light, he could see Ripred's nose working.
"What's that smell?" he asked.
"Lizzie sent you this," Gregor said and tossed the doughnut at the rat.
Ripred easily caught it in his mouth and rolled it around, savoring the sweetness. "Lizzie. Why is it I never get to spend time with the nice members of your family?" asked Ripred. "And the bag?"
"It's from Mrs. Cormaci," said Gregor.
"Ah, La Bella Cormaci," sighed Ripred. "And what does the enchantress of the kitchen send me today?"
"See for yourself," said Gregor. He was about to send the macaroni salad sailing after the doughnut when he heard a scuffling in the adjacent tunnel. No one was usually down here during lessons, and Gregor was instantly on alert. His sword made a satisfying swish as he drew it and adhered it in front of him.
"I told you to stay put!" Ripred barked in the direction of the tunnel.
There was a slight pause as if the creature was considering retreat. Then came a sullen reply: "I smelled food." On the word "food" the low-pitched voice broke into a squeak. Gregor remembered his friend Percy, who had died in an attack by the fault of Gnawers, delivering food to the orphanage. Kids used to make fun of him sometimes, because of his voice cracking. Gregor never really had many problems with that.
"Who is that?" said Gregor. He knew Ripred wasn't supposed to bring others here.
"Oh, that's your buddy the Bane," said Ripred. "After he maimed his last to babysitters the job fell to me."
"The Bane?" Gregor asked in surprise. How had he forgotten about the Bane? He remembered the soft bundle of white fur that had huddled in his arms in fear. He remembered giving the bane to Ripred, and hoping it would grow to be something more than the horrid king the Gnawers whispered of.
"Can I come in?" the voice said from the tunnel.
"Oh, why not?" said Ripred. "Come on in and you can personally thank the warrior for saving your life."
Gregor turned his flashlight beam to the mouth of the tunnel. He should have been prepared, he knew how fast rats grew, but nothing would have prepared him for the 8-foot mountain of white fur he saw.
"Wow." He whispered.
Thank you ever so much for reading! If you haven't noticed, I'm writing each part a bit smaller now, but never fret! That doesn't mean the story will be any smaller. I had a question for you guys out there that write as well. What do you write on? Do you use an app on your computer, an app on your phone? If so, I'm curious what programs/apps you use. Do you write it on a piece of paper, and then copy it to the fanfiction site? Personally, I write the initial story on my computer in a program called Focus Writer (check it out. It's great.) and then i copy it to fanfiction's doc manager for editing.
Fancied it? = Review
Despised it? = Review
Desire to assassinate me for being such a blatant idiot? = Review!
Happiness is where we find it, but very rarely where we seek it.
— J. Petit Senn
