I own nothing! Nothing! Muahaha! ...except what I do own.
BTW, I would like to apologize for the amount of time it took me to get this chappie out. I had a compounded form of writers block, namely a) the normal form, in which one can't think of HOW THE HECK TO WORK THIS THING OUT, b) laziness, c) academic concerns (aka, I'm hanging by a fiber in school -_-*), and d) my mother. Don't worry, this won't happen again for this particular fic unless my comp crashes, I've got everything else ready for posing except the proofreading and stuff.
Aside from that, Yay! We have finally, after MUCH delay, reached the almost- last chappie of this fic! (Cheers from the peanut gallery) I'm so proud! (Boos and hisses from the peanut gallery) Anyway... *stomps heavily and nonchalantly on peanut gallery* this is the third-to-last installment of this horrendous production which I have the audacity to call a fanfic... and which had initially been intended as a one-shot, but, when I first (We interrupt your regularly scheduled author's intro-rant-thingy to bring you this special message: the weird blank spaces are supposed to be there. There is nothing, I repeat, nothing wrong with your comp. Thank you.) started, I noticed that it would have gotten too long to be a one-shot _. Oh, well. Anywho, to those of you who d(/c)are to read on... .... ... -_-* read on!
Chapter four: It's Party Time!
Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak awoke from a long sleep, groggy and disoriented (did you know that "orient" means east? That word makes absolutely no sense. How can one be "dis-easted?" I don't get it! I mean... *is clonked across the head by the Black G--
(*beep. we're sorry, the number you have just dialed is currently unavailable. please hang up and try again.*)
:)
"NOOOOOOOOO!" echoed Raoul's panicked scream through the darkness. "NO! NOT THE PAINT! NOT THE PAINT! ANYTHING BUT THAT! N-AAAAAAUUUUUUUUUGGGHHHHHH!"
Dun dun duuuuunn....
~~~~
Alanna found herself in the middle of a dance floor (complete with Disco Ball the Size of My Ego (tm) and flashy lights). She looked around and raised her eyebrows.
"Welcome to the land of the dead!" Faithful meowed, sauntering towards a refreshments table. "Ooh, food!"
Alanna frowned.
"...I don't think..."
"DAAARLINNNNNNG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"AAAACK!!" cried Alanna, dodging....
Roger, who had not, in fact, been aiming at her, and Thom, who was attached to the duke's ankle and, apparently, praying. The unfortunate redheaded mage was dragged across a white-table-clothed table and through the bright red fruit punch as Roger hurtled himself at the server...
"ALEX, MY DEAR! HOW HAVE YOU BEEN? HAVE YOU GOTTEN OVER YOUR LITTLE PROBLEM YET!?"
"... .... ..." commented Alex of Tirragen, a sour look on his face.
"Alanna! Thank the gods, we-gh!"
"WHY, DEAR COUSIN! IT'S SO WONDERFUL TO SEE YOU!" Roger cried, flinging himself around Jon's neck.
"...that's... nice..." Jon eeked out weakly.
"Alanna! It was so terrible! We thought you hadn't died!" George cried, waving his arms about dramatically.
"..." Alanna replied intelegently.
"..." added Faithful.
"..." retorted Roger.
"..." commented Jon.
"..." agreed Thayet.
"Why is everyone talking in dots?" asked Alex, frowning.
"I'm a San Francisco treat!" exclaimed Roger bouncily.
"When did YOU die?" Alanna managed finally, but not before hurling Roger off into the distance.
"Actually, I died a long time ago," Alex replied loftily. "And it was YOU, I believe, who..."
"Not YOU, YOU!" Alanna screamed, pointing at Thayet, Jon and George. "How...when...why..."
"Actually, there was this really persistent assassin who kept on following us around," Thayet informed her, contemplating.
"So he finally finished you off?"
"What? Oh, no. I tripped on Gary's paperwork and broke my neck," Jon replied while Thayet nodded along in the background. "And Thayet and Gary died similarly trying to check if I was alright."
"Gary's dead, too?" asked Alanna.
"Yup."
"...okay..." Alanna replied, frowning. What a stupid way to go. "And how, pray, did YOU die?"
"Me?" asked George. "Oh, it was rather silly, really. I found a cursed sow's ear..."
"..a cursed SOW'S EAR?"
"...that made all its owners die in ridiculous manners. I was accidentally killed by the guy trying to steal it from me, when he stepped on me in the fight. Heavy fellow, he was."
"And this guy was stealing a SOW'S EAR?"
"Hey, I'd turned it into a silk purse by then. And his manner of death was even stupider."
"What happened?"
"He fell off a pier while impersonating a drunk and drowned."
"..." commented Alanna.
"Oh, what jolly fun!" exclaimed someone. All those present save Roger jumped.
"Owen! Neal!" Alanna exclaimed. "How did you get here so fast?"
"I don't know," Neal replied. "Ask the author."
"Who?"
"Huh?" asked Neal. "What, did I say something?"
"Neal! I was wondering when you'd get here!"
"Hm? Oh, hello, Kel."
Keladry of Mindelan grinned and her companions, Daine and Numair, waved.
"Hello!!" Numair greeted, shaking hands cheerfully with everyone in the group. "You know, in all my years of study, I've never read that the land of the dead would be like this. Although Evildeadguyus does mention in his Book of the Dead that... mphfmmrfmhm...."
"That's nice," Daine replied, stuffing a large bun in Numair's mouth to keep him from talking.
"Hey, wasn't that the guy who wrote up the design for the Needle?" asked Kel, looking thoughtful. "I wonder..."
"Hey, Jon," whispered Roger, poking Jon. "That's your wife, right?"
"Uh...yeah..."
Roger whispered something loudly in the king's ear (which I will not repeat here).
"OH MY GODS!" screamed Thayet, shoving Roger violently back into the black hole he'd just crawled out of. Quantum physicists begged the author to make her do it again, so they could observe the phenomenon... but the greatest scientific discovery since sliced bread can wait. Not heeding this, everyone important to the (non)plot stared at Thayet. "What? Am I not allowed to punish perverts like him?"
"But he's a jolly fellow!" Owen exclaimed, waving his hands.
"Well, our friend Mr. Jolly Roger needs to..." began Thayet hotly, before a skull-and-crossbones motif floated by in a leisurely manner. Everyone stared.
"I did NOT just see that," Alanna commented.
"Okay, no, you didn't," replied Numair.
"Hey, has anyone seen Raoul?" asked Gary, popping up behind Jon. He was holding a skull and crossbones poster. "I think he dropped this..."
"Yeah, where DID he go?" asked George, contemplating. "One moment, he was right here with us, and the next..."
"Uh oh...."
"Did you LOSE Raoul?" asked Thayet, incredulous. "But we need him for the reception next week..."
"We're not doing that any more, Thayet. We're dead, remember?"
"...oh, yeah."
"But how could you possibly loose something that BIG?" asked Faithful. Everyone stared at him. "Whaaat?"
"I thought animals aren't allowed in the Realms of the Dead," commented Daine. "Huh. Odd."
"Come to think of it, what are you doing here, too?" asked Numair. "Not that I'm complaining, but aren't you supposed to be with your parents?"
"I dunno," Daine replied. "I..."
KABOOM!
"What was that?" asked Alanna.
"Oh, that was probably the large, horrifically anachronistic nuclear weapon of mass destruction that Scanra, the Copper Isles, and Carthak had been creating together that I neglected to mention to you," George replied. "Sorry. Slipped my mind."
"THAT somehow SLIPPED your MIND!!!???" Thayet demanded, glaring Bloody Daggers of Impeding DOOM at George, who wisely took the opportunity to take cover.
Jon smiled cheerfully.
"Well, I'm sure that the explosion will bring us plenty of new arrivals!"
~~~~
Migosh, is this thing developing a PLOT??? (It took long enough.though, I'm not sure if it can be considered a plot.)
Onwards, if you dare!
BTW, I would like to apologize for the amount of time it took me to get this chappie out. I had a compounded form of writers block, namely a) the normal form, in which one can't think of HOW THE HECK TO WORK THIS THING OUT, b) laziness, c) academic concerns (aka, I'm hanging by a fiber in school -_-*), and d) my mother. Don't worry, this won't happen again for this particular fic unless my comp crashes, I've got everything else ready for posing except the proofreading and stuff.
Aside from that, Yay! We have finally, after MUCH delay, reached the almost- last chappie of this fic! (Cheers from the peanut gallery) I'm so proud! (Boos and hisses from the peanut gallery) Anyway... *stomps heavily and nonchalantly on peanut gallery* this is the third-to-last installment of this horrendous production which I have the audacity to call a fanfic... and which had initially been intended as a one-shot, but, when I first (We interrupt your regularly scheduled author's intro-rant-thingy to bring you this special message: the weird blank spaces are supposed to be there. There is nothing, I repeat, nothing wrong with your comp. Thank you.) started, I noticed that it would have gotten too long to be a one-shot _. Oh, well. Anywho, to those of you who d(/c)are to read on... .... ... -_-* read on!
Chapter four: It's Party Time!
Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak awoke from a long sleep, groggy and disoriented (did you know that "orient" means east? That word makes absolutely no sense. How can one be "dis-easted?" I don't get it! I mean... *is clonked across the head by the Black G--
(*beep. we're sorry, the number you have just dialed is currently unavailable. please hang up and try again.*)
:)
"NOOOOOOOOO!" echoed Raoul's panicked scream through the darkness. "NO! NOT THE PAINT! NOT THE PAINT! ANYTHING BUT THAT! N-AAAAAAUUUUUUUUUGGGHHHHHH!"
Dun dun duuuuunn....
~~~~
Alanna found herself in the middle of a dance floor (complete with Disco Ball the Size of My Ego (tm) and flashy lights). She looked around and raised her eyebrows.
"Welcome to the land of the dead!" Faithful meowed, sauntering towards a refreshments table. "Ooh, food!"
Alanna frowned.
"...I don't think..."
"DAAARLINNNNNNG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"AAAACK!!" cried Alanna, dodging....
Roger, who had not, in fact, been aiming at her, and Thom, who was attached to the duke's ankle and, apparently, praying. The unfortunate redheaded mage was dragged across a white-table-clothed table and through the bright red fruit punch as Roger hurtled himself at the server...
"ALEX, MY DEAR! HOW HAVE YOU BEEN? HAVE YOU GOTTEN OVER YOUR LITTLE PROBLEM YET!?"
"... .... ..." commented Alex of Tirragen, a sour look on his face.
"Alanna! Thank the gods, we-gh!"
"WHY, DEAR COUSIN! IT'S SO WONDERFUL TO SEE YOU!" Roger cried, flinging himself around Jon's neck.
"...that's... nice..." Jon eeked out weakly.
"Alanna! It was so terrible! We thought you hadn't died!" George cried, waving his arms about dramatically.
"..." Alanna replied intelegently.
"..." added Faithful.
"..." retorted Roger.
"..." commented Jon.
"..." agreed Thayet.
"Why is everyone talking in dots?" asked Alex, frowning.
"I'm a San Francisco treat!" exclaimed Roger bouncily.
"When did YOU die?" Alanna managed finally, but not before hurling Roger off into the distance.
"Actually, I died a long time ago," Alex replied loftily. "And it was YOU, I believe, who..."
"Not YOU, YOU!" Alanna screamed, pointing at Thayet, Jon and George. "How...when...why..."
"Actually, there was this really persistent assassin who kept on following us around," Thayet informed her, contemplating.
"So he finally finished you off?"
"What? Oh, no. I tripped on Gary's paperwork and broke my neck," Jon replied while Thayet nodded along in the background. "And Thayet and Gary died similarly trying to check if I was alright."
"Gary's dead, too?" asked Alanna.
"Yup."
"...okay..." Alanna replied, frowning. What a stupid way to go. "And how, pray, did YOU die?"
"Me?" asked George. "Oh, it was rather silly, really. I found a cursed sow's ear..."
"..a cursed SOW'S EAR?"
"...that made all its owners die in ridiculous manners. I was accidentally killed by the guy trying to steal it from me, when he stepped on me in the fight. Heavy fellow, he was."
"And this guy was stealing a SOW'S EAR?"
"Hey, I'd turned it into a silk purse by then. And his manner of death was even stupider."
"What happened?"
"He fell off a pier while impersonating a drunk and drowned."
"..." commented Alanna.
"Oh, what jolly fun!" exclaimed someone. All those present save Roger jumped.
"Owen! Neal!" Alanna exclaimed. "How did you get here so fast?"
"I don't know," Neal replied. "Ask the author."
"Who?"
"Huh?" asked Neal. "What, did I say something?"
"Neal! I was wondering when you'd get here!"
"Hm? Oh, hello, Kel."
Keladry of Mindelan grinned and her companions, Daine and Numair, waved.
"Hello!!" Numair greeted, shaking hands cheerfully with everyone in the group. "You know, in all my years of study, I've never read that the land of the dead would be like this. Although Evildeadguyus does mention in his Book of the Dead that... mphfmmrfmhm...."
"That's nice," Daine replied, stuffing a large bun in Numair's mouth to keep him from talking.
"Hey, wasn't that the guy who wrote up the design for the Needle?" asked Kel, looking thoughtful. "I wonder..."
"Hey, Jon," whispered Roger, poking Jon. "That's your wife, right?"
"Uh...yeah..."
Roger whispered something loudly in the king's ear (which I will not repeat here).
"OH MY GODS!" screamed Thayet, shoving Roger violently back into the black hole he'd just crawled out of. Quantum physicists begged the author to make her do it again, so they could observe the phenomenon... but the greatest scientific discovery since sliced bread can wait. Not heeding this, everyone important to the (non)plot stared at Thayet. "What? Am I not allowed to punish perverts like him?"
"But he's a jolly fellow!" Owen exclaimed, waving his hands.
"Well, our friend Mr. Jolly Roger needs to..." began Thayet hotly, before a skull-and-crossbones motif floated by in a leisurely manner. Everyone stared.
"I did NOT just see that," Alanna commented.
"Okay, no, you didn't," replied Numair.
"Hey, has anyone seen Raoul?" asked Gary, popping up behind Jon. He was holding a skull and crossbones poster. "I think he dropped this..."
"Yeah, where DID he go?" asked George, contemplating. "One moment, he was right here with us, and the next..."
"Uh oh...."
"Did you LOSE Raoul?" asked Thayet, incredulous. "But we need him for the reception next week..."
"We're not doing that any more, Thayet. We're dead, remember?"
"...oh, yeah."
"But how could you possibly loose something that BIG?" asked Faithful. Everyone stared at him. "Whaaat?"
"I thought animals aren't allowed in the Realms of the Dead," commented Daine. "Huh. Odd."
"Come to think of it, what are you doing here, too?" asked Numair. "Not that I'm complaining, but aren't you supposed to be with your parents?"
"I dunno," Daine replied. "I..."
KABOOM!
"What was that?" asked Alanna.
"Oh, that was probably the large, horrifically anachronistic nuclear weapon of mass destruction that Scanra, the Copper Isles, and Carthak had been creating together that I neglected to mention to you," George replied. "Sorry. Slipped my mind."
"THAT somehow SLIPPED your MIND!!!???" Thayet demanded, glaring Bloody Daggers of Impeding DOOM at George, who wisely took the opportunity to take cover.
Jon smiled cheerfully.
"Well, I'm sure that the explosion will bring us plenty of new arrivals!"
~~~~
Migosh, is this thing developing a PLOT??? (It took long enough.though, I'm not sure if it can be considered a plot.)
Onwards, if you dare!