Interview With the Goblin King
Written by: Israfel
When a human being makes a rather outlandish guess based on half formed theories they had been throwing around their mind and has it confirmed true by the source, that person will usually require a moment to collect themselves before they can move on. Some require internal reflection, while others need to make sarcastic comments. Still others end up stammering half formed replies, because that is what they believe the situation calls for, that try to be glib but fail utterly. I happen to be one of the sad few who falls into the third category. Of course, that's right after I remember how to breathe.
A good thing to remember if this ever happens to you is chanting also helps in this case. Internal chanting, that is. Nothing sets people off to your growing mental issues more than muttered repetition of a phrase to keep your breathing in rhythm.
Shifting my body closer to the computer and hunching my shoulder in some primitive motion of shielding myself, I found myself staring at my hands still hovering over the keyboard. Balling them up into fists, I could feel my nails digging into the soft skin of my palms. Not being fond of clichés, I stopped myself before they dug in too deep and I started getting those half crescent marks that bled. Not that they could really do that. My nails are too flexible for clichés.
"Um. Oh, shit," I stammered. "Well, nice talking to you. I'll tell you if I think of anything. Bye!" And with that, I got jumped out of my chair and scurried to the door. I didn't get too far before my face collided with a male chest.
"By dose!" I cried out. Translation: My nose! I cupped my hands around the hurting piece of my face, glaring up at the offending object that had caused this pain. "I dink you broge by dose!"
"Stop your childish whining this instant," his chilly accented voice spoke, making its way over my whimpering. "It would have taken a run in with an object considerably denser than myself to harm your nose in such a way."
Gently probing the soft tissue, I ignored him. I ended up placing the palm of my hand up against my nostrils, and pulled it away after a few seconds to check for blood. Not satisfied, I placed it in the same position again and blew hard. When I checked again, I saw nothing resembling blood. Damn. I hate it when other people are right, especially when they are annoying men whose people consist of drooling, infantile monsters that appear to have no purpose other than stealing babies.
But just because he was right didn't mean it hurt any less. I made a face at him, breathing in sharply as I felt the slight tinge of pain still there. Rubbing my nose while inwardly cursing the very existence of a certain blonde, I made my way back over to my chair and collapsed into it. I sighed while rubbing the bridge of my nose. Ouch. Note to self: Do not do dramatic gestures while in pain.
"...I'm not a miracle worker."
"That's quite apparent." Ooh, sarcasm. There's a new one for you, goblin- boy.
"I can't help you unless you help me."
"Now, now, that's not in the rules."
"Bugger the rules! You're essentially fucked five ways from Sunday here, and unless you are willing to get onboard with my ideas then it looks like you'll be sitting here for a long time. And unlike in your land, here the rules are a tad bit different. If you so much as try anything on me, the police will be here so fast that it'll have your over-teased head spinning."
""Well then, you'll surely have a grand time explaining to them where your family has disappeared to."
"Excuse me?" I whispered suspiciously.
"As of now, your entire family has taken up residence in one of my more...secure dungeons."
"The oubliettes!" I hissed.
"Precisely.
"Good." When in doubt, bluff. Bluff like your life depends on it. Which in this case, it did. "They were pissing me off lately. This will make things far easier on myself."
"Oh really? I'm sure they will be quite glad to know that. Go ahead, oblige yourself with a nice long look around. You won't find them here."
"I think will."
Barreling out of my room before he could say another word, I ran into the living room calling out my parents names all the while. No response. While fear welled up inside me and made my chest tight, I tried to remember the breathing exercises I had learned in order to keep myself calm. Unfortunately, since I don't handle well under crisis situations or pretty much any situation known to man, I panicked.
"Mom!" I called out again. "Dad!"
I grit my teeth as I slammed my way out of the house, praying that they decided to do some stargazing for once or just went to the store. Luck was not on my side. Not inside, not outside. Their cars were still there. That's when I just stopped moving. I was on my home turf, so this allowed me a bit of advantage. He wasn't following me while I made my futile rounds, so it allowed me a few moments to formulate a plan of action for once I got back inside.
And then I smiled.
I slowly made my way back inside, pushing the door so it made a small "snick" sound as it closed. Making my way over to the kitchen I stood in front of the sink and turned the water pressure on full blast while my left hands gripped the edge of the counter and my right hand hovered somewhere just above the water flow.
"Given up already? I must say I am disappointed." He was right behind me. I could hear him. Moving my right hand down slightly I gripped the glass bottle that had been soaking and spun around, aiming carefully as I swung the heavy bottle at his head.
Unfortunately, he his reflexes were faster than I expected. As the glass was about to make a rather painful connection, his hand somehow maneuvered itself around my makeshift weapon and used the full force of my attack to throw me off to the side where I stood in shock. Somehow I managed to keep a hold of the bottle.
Hey, I never said it was a good plan.
"Isn't this a delicious little scenario?"
I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Every little thought, every venomous bit of hatred you aimed at them, every torturous and traitorous act you stored in that dark mind of yours hoping would never see the light of day is having itself realized upon those of your blood. Most fitting as that will be all that's left of them when I'm through."
I froze in place. "No."
"Oh, yes," he responded with a silky tone as he jerked the bottle out of my hands, throwing it at the wall behind me. I think I screamed and jumped at least a foot off the ground at the sound of the glass shattering. Cornering me up against the cabinet, I leaned back fearfully as his cruel visage rested a full three inches away from mine. "After all, blood stains are so hard to get out."
"You're crazy. Insane. Psychotic!" I hissed at him.
"And you are redundant." The energy between us was thick with loathing as we glared. "Three hours."
"Huh?"
"I'm giving you three hours to make your final decision. If not, your kin will never see the light of day again."
"All aboard the guilt train, eh?"
He moved to make his exit. However, before he did he stopped before the window and turned around with a crystal ball spinning from finger to finger. "One last word of advice: Don't even try calling your pathetic law enforcement officers. The scene at hand when they arrive will more than convince them of your apparent guilt."
And with that, the ball was tossed up and the air filled with a bright light. Covering my eyes quickly, I removed my arm from it's protective position and opened my eyes after a few moments. Scanning the current state of the room while the spots in front of my eyes faded, I had to wince. The house was in shambles. Blood on the walls, blood on me, and stuff I couldn't discern and really didn't want to think about on the floor. I waited about thirty seconds after that to take my parting shot at the missing Goblin King.
"Drama queen!" I shouted.
For someone who prided themselves on their intelligence, I seemed to be lacking in it when dealing with a certain royal. A good rule of thumb was to never piss off the Goblin King; Somehow I had managed to skip over that rule with reckless abandon. Looking around at the mess I had caused by not adhering to said rule, I sighed. I was definitely in deep. I had forgotten that first and foremost, Jareth was not the cuddly bunny fanfic authors make him out to be; He was a dangerous and ruthless leader who played the part of diplomat only when it served to further his goals.
"Fuck," I muttered as I cleared my way through to the laundry room to grab a broom and some bleach.
Written by: Israfel
When a human being makes a rather outlandish guess based on half formed theories they had been throwing around their mind and has it confirmed true by the source, that person will usually require a moment to collect themselves before they can move on. Some require internal reflection, while others need to make sarcastic comments. Still others end up stammering half formed replies, because that is what they believe the situation calls for, that try to be glib but fail utterly. I happen to be one of the sad few who falls into the third category. Of course, that's right after I remember how to breathe.
A good thing to remember if this ever happens to you is chanting also helps in this case. Internal chanting, that is. Nothing sets people off to your growing mental issues more than muttered repetition of a phrase to keep your breathing in rhythm.
Shifting my body closer to the computer and hunching my shoulder in some primitive motion of shielding myself, I found myself staring at my hands still hovering over the keyboard. Balling them up into fists, I could feel my nails digging into the soft skin of my palms. Not being fond of clichés, I stopped myself before they dug in too deep and I started getting those half crescent marks that bled. Not that they could really do that. My nails are too flexible for clichés.
"Um. Oh, shit," I stammered. "Well, nice talking to you. I'll tell you if I think of anything. Bye!" And with that, I got jumped out of my chair and scurried to the door. I didn't get too far before my face collided with a male chest.
"By dose!" I cried out. Translation: My nose! I cupped my hands around the hurting piece of my face, glaring up at the offending object that had caused this pain. "I dink you broge by dose!"
"Stop your childish whining this instant," his chilly accented voice spoke, making its way over my whimpering. "It would have taken a run in with an object considerably denser than myself to harm your nose in such a way."
Gently probing the soft tissue, I ignored him. I ended up placing the palm of my hand up against my nostrils, and pulled it away after a few seconds to check for blood. Not satisfied, I placed it in the same position again and blew hard. When I checked again, I saw nothing resembling blood. Damn. I hate it when other people are right, especially when they are annoying men whose people consist of drooling, infantile monsters that appear to have no purpose other than stealing babies.
But just because he was right didn't mean it hurt any less. I made a face at him, breathing in sharply as I felt the slight tinge of pain still there. Rubbing my nose while inwardly cursing the very existence of a certain blonde, I made my way back over to my chair and collapsed into it. I sighed while rubbing the bridge of my nose. Ouch. Note to self: Do not do dramatic gestures while in pain.
"...I'm not a miracle worker."
"That's quite apparent." Ooh, sarcasm. There's a new one for you, goblin- boy.
"I can't help you unless you help me."
"Now, now, that's not in the rules."
"Bugger the rules! You're essentially fucked five ways from Sunday here, and unless you are willing to get onboard with my ideas then it looks like you'll be sitting here for a long time. And unlike in your land, here the rules are a tad bit different. If you so much as try anything on me, the police will be here so fast that it'll have your over-teased head spinning."
""Well then, you'll surely have a grand time explaining to them where your family has disappeared to."
"Excuse me?" I whispered suspiciously.
"As of now, your entire family has taken up residence in one of my more...secure dungeons."
"The oubliettes!" I hissed.
"Precisely.
"Good." When in doubt, bluff. Bluff like your life depends on it. Which in this case, it did. "They were pissing me off lately. This will make things far easier on myself."
"Oh really? I'm sure they will be quite glad to know that. Go ahead, oblige yourself with a nice long look around. You won't find them here."
"I think will."
Barreling out of my room before he could say another word, I ran into the living room calling out my parents names all the while. No response. While fear welled up inside me and made my chest tight, I tried to remember the breathing exercises I had learned in order to keep myself calm. Unfortunately, since I don't handle well under crisis situations or pretty much any situation known to man, I panicked.
"Mom!" I called out again. "Dad!"
I grit my teeth as I slammed my way out of the house, praying that they decided to do some stargazing for once or just went to the store. Luck was not on my side. Not inside, not outside. Their cars were still there. That's when I just stopped moving. I was on my home turf, so this allowed me a bit of advantage. He wasn't following me while I made my futile rounds, so it allowed me a few moments to formulate a plan of action for once I got back inside.
And then I smiled.
I slowly made my way back inside, pushing the door so it made a small "snick" sound as it closed. Making my way over to the kitchen I stood in front of the sink and turned the water pressure on full blast while my left hands gripped the edge of the counter and my right hand hovered somewhere just above the water flow.
"Given up already? I must say I am disappointed." He was right behind me. I could hear him. Moving my right hand down slightly I gripped the glass bottle that had been soaking and spun around, aiming carefully as I swung the heavy bottle at his head.
Unfortunately, he his reflexes were faster than I expected. As the glass was about to make a rather painful connection, his hand somehow maneuvered itself around my makeshift weapon and used the full force of my attack to throw me off to the side where I stood in shock. Somehow I managed to keep a hold of the bottle.
Hey, I never said it was a good plan.
"Isn't this a delicious little scenario?"
I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Every little thought, every venomous bit of hatred you aimed at them, every torturous and traitorous act you stored in that dark mind of yours hoping would never see the light of day is having itself realized upon those of your blood. Most fitting as that will be all that's left of them when I'm through."
I froze in place. "No."
"Oh, yes," he responded with a silky tone as he jerked the bottle out of my hands, throwing it at the wall behind me. I think I screamed and jumped at least a foot off the ground at the sound of the glass shattering. Cornering me up against the cabinet, I leaned back fearfully as his cruel visage rested a full three inches away from mine. "After all, blood stains are so hard to get out."
"You're crazy. Insane. Psychotic!" I hissed at him.
"And you are redundant." The energy between us was thick with loathing as we glared. "Three hours."
"Huh?"
"I'm giving you three hours to make your final decision. If not, your kin will never see the light of day again."
"All aboard the guilt train, eh?"
He moved to make his exit. However, before he did he stopped before the window and turned around with a crystal ball spinning from finger to finger. "One last word of advice: Don't even try calling your pathetic law enforcement officers. The scene at hand when they arrive will more than convince them of your apparent guilt."
And with that, the ball was tossed up and the air filled with a bright light. Covering my eyes quickly, I removed my arm from it's protective position and opened my eyes after a few moments. Scanning the current state of the room while the spots in front of my eyes faded, I had to wince. The house was in shambles. Blood on the walls, blood on me, and stuff I couldn't discern and really didn't want to think about on the floor. I waited about thirty seconds after that to take my parting shot at the missing Goblin King.
"Drama queen!" I shouted.
For someone who prided themselves on their intelligence, I seemed to be lacking in it when dealing with a certain royal. A good rule of thumb was to never piss off the Goblin King; Somehow I had managed to skip over that rule with reckless abandon. Looking around at the mess I had caused by not adhering to said rule, I sighed. I was definitely in deep. I had forgotten that first and foremost, Jareth was not the cuddly bunny fanfic authors make him out to be; He was a dangerous and ruthless leader who played the part of diplomat only when it served to further his goals.
"Fuck," I muttered as I cleared my way through to the laundry room to grab a broom and some bleach.