Disclaimer: I no own, you no sue.
*`*`*`*`*`*`*
Author's Note: Jesus Christ, everyone in my family is driving me nucking futs! I'm doing this chapter right now because I really need to get out this pent up....how should I say this...? Violent tendencies? No...Graphic descriptions? Yeah, there we go. RPGs aren't really cuttin' it for me, so I need to resort to something else. Whoopee.
~NeoNaoNeo
*`*`*`*`*`*`*
"Bow down, bow down, before the po-wer of Santa or be crushed, be crushed....byyy....his JOLLY BOOTS OF DOOM!"~Invader Zim
*`*`*`*`*`*`*
Chapter 8: Needles
*`*`*`*`*`*`*
"Kuja? You around?" Ipsen said, walking through the darkened corridor of the auction house. He kept his wings pressed close against his back and a hand holding his scarf. Kuja grabbed his shoulder. "Ah! Oh, it's you. You scared the crap out of me."
Kuja smiled. "I'm so sorry I led you on my boy, but sacrifices have to be made." he said to the mage.
"What do you mean?" Ipsen asked, afraid of the response.
"I mean that our friendship was nothing more than a hoax," Kuja replied with a shrug. "I hope you don't take any of this personally."
A hoax? Kuja had faked their friendship this whole time? Ipsen felt a pang of guilt for what he said to his father. Kuja laughed at the mage's bewildered stare, putting a hand on his forehead in a melodramatic pose. "Stop! You're killing me, that childish look is too much!"
"How could you!? After all this time!?" Ipsen finally shouted, spreading his wings in indignantly.
Kuja's smile became a smirk. "I did want to teach you all that magic though, you probably would have stuck with daddy's lessons if I hadn't become your 'friend'." he laughed. "I was using you."
"For what? What could you possibly get from teaching me all that magic?" Ipsen uttered and began conjuring a spell. "Besides a cracked skull?"
Kuja was too fast and slammed him against the wall with the super-heated explosion of a flare spell. Ipsen groaned and tried picking himself up or teleporting, anything to get him out of there, but he wasn't able to muster the strength. Kuja approached him and removed a vial and syringe from his robe pocket.
"My my, what a temper we have, little puppet. And so curious. Well, I can assure you, all questions will be answered. Even if you don't remember what you asked." Kuja chuckled and flipped Ipsen over with his foot, as though Ipsen had some terrible disease and was afraid of being contaminated. "You know, I find your kind quite depressing, being so blind and easily manipulated. But at the same time.... fascinating. It usually takes creatures such a dreadfully long time to grow and evolve, if they ever even reach that stage of development. But your kind, all it takes is a little stimulation and you can become completely different creatures. You grow at the smallest beam of sunshine and drops of rain. Quite astounding...oh, I'm sorry, I'm rambling, aren't I?"
He ran a gentle finger along Ipsen's backbone and applied some slight pressure with his thumb, right between his wings. Ipsen was beginning to calm down and regain his sense, until Kuja shoved the needle of the syringe into his skin and into his bone. Ipsen gave a terrible scream which went into a deep throated, feral growl. The burning pain paralyzed Ipsen, leaving him completely helpless as Kuja finished the injection.
Ipsen began shivering violently and went into the fetal position, clutching his stomach from the pain. Kuja watched him, bemused. "Don't worry about it, you'll feel much better in the morning, I can assure you." the silver haired man muttered, the sharpness edging his voice once again. He snapped his fingers and a servant came up, a plump woman in a blue house dress. "Aggy."
"Yes sir?"
"Take this runt to a room." he ordered.
"Is he alright?" she murmured, not expecting an answer. She didn't and took Ipsen under her arm, leading him up to a room. Ipsen groaned and clutched to her for support, very dazed and befuddled.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. You were right dad," he mumbled a few times on the way up the stairs.
"Hush darling, you're fine." the woman coaxed and opened a door. "Here's where you'll be staying."
His only response was a low groan as he stumbled to keep himself up without the woman's support. What started as a sharp jolt of pain in his back became a throbbing ache all over. He flopped down in the bed, every muscle in his body felt like they'd been replaced by vomit gelatin. But Ipsen managed to make himself comfortable in the bed, while cursing and grumbling at his fate. In the morning, he'd try to make a break for Lindblum. He nodded at the plan, despite the barred windows, and drifted into an uneasy sleep, every muscle in his body aching and twitching.
*`*`*`*`*`*`*
The moon was blood red above him as he flapped over the plains, black and yellow wings illuminated in the diseased moonlight. He had to labor his wings harder than usual to stay up in the stale, dead air, but it wasn't a problem to him, Ipsen felt slightly more powerful and much more savage than usual. A bloodlust, an insatiable urge to hunt, to kill.
Movement! A hooded figure darted below him, running from an inevitable fate. Ipsen cackled at its foolishness and swooped down. The night breeze was painfully cold against his exposed throat, his scarf was left behind, as was his innocence and only a few stray, crimpled feathers clung to his skin. He loved the chase, the game of cat and mouse. He teleported in front of the figure. A gasp escaped from under the hood as the figure stumbled and fell over itself. He ported behind the perplexed creature, imitating the acts of Black Waltz 2 until he became bored.
"Please, don't!" the figure shouted. That voice was so familiar, he knew it. He held back, but his feral side snarled at him, egging him on. He took a step forward and spread his wings as a spell left his hand. "No!!!"
The figure was swallowed in a tidal flame, leaving a fallen body. He smiled at his handiwork and walked up to his victim. The hood still hid its face from view, but he lifted it off and gasped in shock and disgust at his own actions.
Robin stared back at him, her once pale and beautiful face contorted and ripped with flames.
*`*`*`*`*`*`*
"Robin!!!" He shouted, shooting out from his bed with a violent start. He was shaking all over, nearly ready to vomit himself. "Uh," he said, closing his eyes and laying back down. "A dream, just a dream." Ipsen muttered and settled back into the warm and inviting bed. His muscles were no longer tensed or aching, although he felt constricted. He thought it was just his imagination, but after trying to push off the feeling to no avail, he growled at the discomfort. He just wanted to get back to sleep, seeing as it was still night out. He closed his eyes, but opened them a few moments later, remembering where he was.
"City of eternal night," he muttered playfully to himself. But what came out wasn't his voice. The voice he heard was much deeper than his, with an edge of hoarseness. He swallowed and tried his voice again, hoping his sleepy mind was playing tricks on him. "City of eternal night..." he repeated, but trailed off when the deep raspy voice came out. Ipsen gave a nervous swallow and pulled off the covers.
"Oh God..." he said, looking himself over. Ipsen's stomach was completely exposed, his shirt was ripped and stretched, and many of the seams were burst. His hat and pants still fit despite his sudden growth spurt of nearly two feet, although his pants were ripped and tattered at the bottom. He was shaking with disbelief.
"Oh God no," he reached down to examine the bottom edge of his pants, but drew back when he saw his hand. Ipsen's fingers had burst from their mahogany gloves, now exposed as black, claw-like talons. He looked across the room and caught sight of a mirror.
Ipsen shook his head in disbelief at his reflection. Instead of the few, crimpled feathers that once stuck out of his neck, a full covering of deep blue plumage surrounded his throat. The next thing he noticed was his wings. They too had grown, now taking up nearly half his back. The flight feathers, which were once a dreamy, cream color were now a venomous, biting yellow. He still had the small white spot on his under wing though, bringing him some comfort.
Ipsen spread his wings with an aggravated snarl and sent a lightning bolt straight through the mirror, which continued and bit a deep groove in the brick behind the bureau. He felt tears streaming down his cheeks and slammed his fists into the dresser, slightly splintering the fragile wood. The sudden movement caused his sleeves to be completely torn from their already weak seams. He looked over his shoulder and saw a pile of clothes on a chair behind him.
"He's taunting me, he predicted this, he knew all along," Ipsen murmured in disbelief, recalling Kuja's actions. "That bastard!" He shouted and kicked the chair over. Once again, the sudden and violent movement caused another seam to split. He sighed and tried to remove the remains of his shirt, but was unable to get it over his wings. Ipsen, getting very aggravated, violently tore at his sky blue shirt with his talon-tipped fingers and threw the tatters to the ground. He stretched and chuckled. Ipsen didn't no why, but he laughed.
The waltz staggered over to where he had kicked the chair over, still feeling clumsy and awkward with his new body. He sat down to examine the articles of clothing Kuja had given him. He quickly changed into the outfit, not caring what he looked like. "Damn cold room," he muttered, cursing anything that came to mind.
Ipsen would have looked in the mirror, but it was in a million pieces on the floor. He threw on his yellow and green scarf, which clashed with the blood red color of the sweater he was wearing. Ipsen despised the red color of the sweater and buttoned up the long black trench coat he had found. He didn't mind the rest of the outfit though, a pair of light brown pants and a set of thick black boots with heavy silver buckles. Ipsen sighed and laid down on the bed when someone knocked at the door.
"Are you decent hon?" said a gentle voice. It was the servant who had helped him up to his room the night before. "I brought you something to eat."
Ipsen snapped to attention, he had just realized how hungry he was. "Yeah, I'm dressed." The servant unlocked the door from the outside and walked in. She nearly dropped the platter she was holding in surprise.
"Oh my," she said. Aggy remembered her manners and broke away her stare. "I'm sorry, um...here." She handed him a plate which had a pile of eggs, a few strips of bacon and a piece of toast.
"No problem," Ipsen replied and picked up the fork and began devouring his meal.
"Well, finally! Someone who appreciates my cooking." Aggy chuckled. "If you want some more, I'd be glad to bring it up. Get some meat on those bones."
Ipsen nodded. Despite his sudden change in size, Ipsen kept his gaunt physique. "Thanks," he said through a swallow.
"Don't worry about it," she said with a chuckle. Aggy saw he was a bit distraught about something. She bent over and started to give him a small pat on the back, right on the base between his wings. "It'll be alright."
He nodded chirpily and finished his meal, trying to get up every last crumb. Aggy left and locked the door again from the outside before Ipsen could get another word in.
He laid back down in the bed and sighed deeply. Ipsen murmured a question to himself, feeling confused and angry, mixed with guilt and slight blissfulness, all at the same time. "What happened to me?"
*`*`*`*`*`*`*`
Author's Note: Oh god, this last chapter was so sweet for me....if you don't like it, too bad! I had an unnatural amount of fun typing it. I played hooky today just to type! You should be happy! I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate at skool if I didn't finish up, it's true! Plus I had a lot of stuff to do for radio and I needed to find that fine tipped permanent marker I lost so I could finish my rant (dealing with this story) on the cover of my sketch book. Remember, I'll type it up and post it if we get 25 reviews by the end of the story!!! I would be so happy, plus you'll get a sneak peek of....oops, said too much. Bye!
~NeoNaoNeo
*`*`*`*`*`*`*
Author's Note: Jesus Christ, everyone in my family is driving me nucking futs! I'm doing this chapter right now because I really need to get out this pent up....how should I say this...? Violent tendencies? No...Graphic descriptions? Yeah, there we go. RPGs aren't really cuttin' it for me, so I need to resort to something else. Whoopee.
~NeoNaoNeo
*`*`*`*`*`*`*
"Bow down, bow down, before the po-wer of Santa or be crushed, be crushed....byyy....his JOLLY BOOTS OF DOOM!"~Invader Zim
*`*`*`*`*`*`*
Chapter 8: Needles
*`*`*`*`*`*`*
"Kuja? You around?" Ipsen said, walking through the darkened corridor of the auction house. He kept his wings pressed close against his back and a hand holding his scarf. Kuja grabbed his shoulder. "Ah! Oh, it's you. You scared the crap out of me."
Kuja smiled. "I'm so sorry I led you on my boy, but sacrifices have to be made." he said to the mage.
"What do you mean?" Ipsen asked, afraid of the response.
"I mean that our friendship was nothing more than a hoax," Kuja replied with a shrug. "I hope you don't take any of this personally."
A hoax? Kuja had faked their friendship this whole time? Ipsen felt a pang of guilt for what he said to his father. Kuja laughed at the mage's bewildered stare, putting a hand on his forehead in a melodramatic pose. "Stop! You're killing me, that childish look is too much!"
"How could you!? After all this time!?" Ipsen finally shouted, spreading his wings in indignantly.
Kuja's smile became a smirk. "I did want to teach you all that magic though, you probably would have stuck with daddy's lessons if I hadn't become your 'friend'." he laughed. "I was using you."
"For what? What could you possibly get from teaching me all that magic?" Ipsen uttered and began conjuring a spell. "Besides a cracked skull?"
Kuja was too fast and slammed him against the wall with the super-heated explosion of a flare spell. Ipsen groaned and tried picking himself up or teleporting, anything to get him out of there, but he wasn't able to muster the strength. Kuja approached him and removed a vial and syringe from his robe pocket.
"My my, what a temper we have, little puppet. And so curious. Well, I can assure you, all questions will be answered. Even if you don't remember what you asked." Kuja chuckled and flipped Ipsen over with his foot, as though Ipsen had some terrible disease and was afraid of being contaminated. "You know, I find your kind quite depressing, being so blind and easily manipulated. But at the same time.... fascinating. It usually takes creatures such a dreadfully long time to grow and evolve, if they ever even reach that stage of development. But your kind, all it takes is a little stimulation and you can become completely different creatures. You grow at the smallest beam of sunshine and drops of rain. Quite astounding...oh, I'm sorry, I'm rambling, aren't I?"
He ran a gentle finger along Ipsen's backbone and applied some slight pressure with his thumb, right between his wings. Ipsen was beginning to calm down and regain his sense, until Kuja shoved the needle of the syringe into his skin and into his bone. Ipsen gave a terrible scream which went into a deep throated, feral growl. The burning pain paralyzed Ipsen, leaving him completely helpless as Kuja finished the injection.
Ipsen began shivering violently and went into the fetal position, clutching his stomach from the pain. Kuja watched him, bemused. "Don't worry about it, you'll feel much better in the morning, I can assure you." the silver haired man muttered, the sharpness edging his voice once again. He snapped his fingers and a servant came up, a plump woman in a blue house dress. "Aggy."
"Yes sir?"
"Take this runt to a room." he ordered.
"Is he alright?" she murmured, not expecting an answer. She didn't and took Ipsen under her arm, leading him up to a room. Ipsen groaned and clutched to her for support, very dazed and befuddled.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. You were right dad," he mumbled a few times on the way up the stairs.
"Hush darling, you're fine." the woman coaxed and opened a door. "Here's where you'll be staying."
His only response was a low groan as he stumbled to keep himself up without the woman's support. What started as a sharp jolt of pain in his back became a throbbing ache all over. He flopped down in the bed, every muscle in his body felt like they'd been replaced by vomit gelatin. But Ipsen managed to make himself comfortable in the bed, while cursing and grumbling at his fate. In the morning, he'd try to make a break for Lindblum. He nodded at the plan, despite the barred windows, and drifted into an uneasy sleep, every muscle in his body aching and twitching.
*`*`*`*`*`*`*
The moon was blood red above him as he flapped over the plains, black and yellow wings illuminated in the diseased moonlight. He had to labor his wings harder than usual to stay up in the stale, dead air, but it wasn't a problem to him, Ipsen felt slightly more powerful and much more savage than usual. A bloodlust, an insatiable urge to hunt, to kill.
Movement! A hooded figure darted below him, running from an inevitable fate. Ipsen cackled at its foolishness and swooped down. The night breeze was painfully cold against his exposed throat, his scarf was left behind, as was his innocence and only a few stray, crimpled feathers clung to his skin. He loved the chase, the game of cat and mouse. He teleported in front of the figure. A gasp escaped from under the hood as the figure stumbled and fell over itself. He ported behind the perplexed creature, imitating the acts of Black Waltz 2 until he became bored.
"Please, don't!" the figure shouted. That voice was so familiar, he knew it. He held back, but his feral side snarled at him, egging him on. He took a step forward and spread his wings as a spell left his hand. "No!!!"
The figure was swallowed in a tidal flame, leaving a fallen body. He smiled at his handiwork and walked up to his victim. The hood still hid its face from view, but he lifted it off and gasped in shock and disgust at his own actions.
Robin stared back at him, her once pale and beautiful face contorted and ripped with flames.
*`*`*`*`*`*`*
"Robin!!!" He shouted, shooting out from his bed with a violent start. He was shaking all over, nearly ready to vomit himself. "Uh," he said, closing his eyes and laying back down. "A dream, just a dream." Ipsen muttered and settled back into the warm and inviting bed. His muscles were no longer tensed or aching, although he felt constricted. He thought it was just his imagination, but after trying to push off the feeling to no avail, he growled at the discomfort. He just wanted to get back to sleep, seeing as it was still night out. He closed his eyes, but opened them a few moments later, remembering where he was.
"City of eternal night," he muttered playfully to himself. But what came out wasn't his voice. The voice he heard was much deeper than his, with an edge of hoarseness. He swallowed and tried his voice again, hoping his sleepy mind was playing tricks on him. "City of eternal night..." he repeated, but trailed off when the deep raspy voice came out. Ipsen gave a nervous swallow and pulled off the covers.
"Oh God..." he said, looking himself over. Ipsen's stomach was completely exposed, his shirt was ripped and stretched, and many of the seams were burst. His hat and pants still fit despite his sudden growth spurt of nearly two feet, although his pants were ripped and tattered at the bottom. He was shaking with disbelief.
"Oh God no," he reached down to examine the bottom edge of his pants, but drew back when he saw his hand. Ipsen's fingers had burst from their mahogany gloves, now exposed as black, claw-like talons. He looked across the room and caught sight of a mirror.
Ipsen shook his head in disbelief at his reflection. Instead of the few, crimpled feathers that once stuck out of his neck, a full covering of deep blue plumage surrounded his throat. The next thing he noticed was his wings. They too had grown, now taking up nearly half his back. The flight feathers, which were once a dreamy, cream color were now a venomous, biting yellow. He still had the small white spot on his under wing though, bringing him some comfort.
Ipsen spread his wings with an aggravated snarl and sent a lightning bolt straight through the mirror, which continued and bit a deep groove in the brick behind the bureau. He felt tears streaming down his cheeks and slammed his fists into the dresser, slightly splintering the fragile wood. The sudden movement caused his sleeves to be completely torn from their already weak seams. He looked over his shoulder and saw a pile of clothes on a chair behind him.
"He's taunting me, he predicted this, he knew all along," Ipsen murmured in disbelief, recalling Kuja's actions. "That bastard!" He shouted and kicked the chair over. Once again, the sudden and violent movement caused another seam to split. He sighed and tried to remove the remains of his shirt, but was unable to get it over his wings. Ipsen, getting very aggravated, violently tore at his sky blue shirt with his talon-tipped fingers and threw the tatters to the ground. He stretched and chuckled. Ipsen didn't no why, but he laughed.
The waltz staggered over to where he had kicked the chair over, still feeling clumsy and awkward with his new body. He sat down to examine the articles of clothing Kuja had given him. He quickly changed into the outfit, not caring what he looked like. "Damn cold room," he muttered, cursing anything that came to mind.
Ipsen would have looked in the mirror, but it was in a million pieces on the floor. He threw on his yellow and green scarf, which clashed with the blood red color of the sweater he was wearing. Ipsen despised the red color of the sweater and buttoned up the long black trench coat he had found. He didn't mind the rest of the outfit though, a pair of light brown pants and a set of thick black boots with heavy silver buckles. Ipsen sighed and laid down on the bed when someone knocked at the door.
"Are you decent hon?" said a gentle voice. It was the servant who had helped him up to his room the night before. "I brought you something to eat."
Ipsen snapped to attention, he had just realized how hungry he was. "Yeah, I'm dressed." The servant unlocked the door from the outside and walked in. She nearly dropped the platter she was holding in surprise.
"Oh my," she said. Aggy remembered her manners and broke away her stare. "I'm sorry, um...here." She handed him a plate which had a pile of eggs, a few strips of bacon and a piece of toast.
"No problem," Ipsen replied and picked up the fork and began devouring his meal.
"Well, finally! Someone who appreciates my cooking." Aggy chuckled. "If you want some more, I'd be glad to bring it up. Get some meat on those bones."
Ipsen nodded. Despite his sudden change in size, Ipsen kept his gaunt physique. "Thanks," he said through a swallow.
"Don't worry about it," she said with a chuckle. Aggy saw he was a bit distraught about something. She bent over and started to give him a small pat on the back, right on the base between his wings. "It'll be alright."
He nodded chirpily and finished his meal, trying to get up every last crumb. Aggy left and locked the door again from the outside before Ipsen could get another word in.
He laid back down in the bed and sighed deeply. Ipsen murmured a question to himself, feeling confused and angry, mixed with guilt and slight blissfulness, all at the same time. "What happened to me?"
*`*`*`*`*`*`*`
Author's Note: Oh god, this last chapter was so sweet for me....if you don't like it, too bad! I had an unnatural amount of fun typing it. I played hooky today just to type! You should be happy! I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate at skool if I didn't finish up, it's true! Plus I had a lot of stuff to do for radio and I needed to find that fine tipped permanent marker I lost so I could finish my rant (dealing with this story) on the cover of my sketch book. Remember, I'll type it up and post it if we get 25 reviews by the end of the story!!! I would be so happy, plus you'll get a sneak peek of....oops, said too much. Bye!
~NeoNaoNeo