My latest piece was inspired by Rachael Mayo's Demon Drums. Visit her art at http/elfwood.lysator.liu.se/fanq/r/a/rachaelm3/rachaelm3.html. It is well worth it! Artistic license has been taken. This was originally a one-shot, but I decided that the second half did not really apply to the picture, so I'm going to finish it later and post it as the second chapter. For the all the history on Matt and the rest of my characters, read Predator: Birth of a hunter and Predator: Return to Earth.
I own nothing but Matt and the personalities of my characters, so no suing me because I have nothing worth taking... Except for me brainmeats! But you don't want those.
Flame me if you like, but they will be posted later and laughed at. Then I will deploy my genetically engineered death kittens and DESTROY you! (Cue maniacal laughter here)
Cetanu: The Black Warrior, God of Death.
Cnt'lip: A powerful alcoholic beverage.
Eta: Slave.
Setg'in-kwei: Tricky and quick.
Nihkou'te: Tooth or tusk.
Guan-Thwei: Night Blood.
Dhi'ki-de: Death or the sleep before death.
Kainde Amedha: Hard Meat, Xenomorph.
M-di'Nan-ku: No life.
Demon Drums
Dozens of Yautja clothed in their ceremonial armor lounged comfortably on massive, low couches. The remains of a once splendid supper lay strewn along the long, low tables in the banquet hall. Among the hunters lay a single human, Matt Booker, known as M'aat-hew, dwarfed by his fellow warriors, though actually he was relatively tall and well-muscled for a human. His ceremonial armor was a dusty silvery brown, making his tanned skin stand out even more, making the blonde highlights in his shoulder length brown hair more vibrant. A dark gray cloak was clasped about his shoulders. Some of the Yautja were still nursing cups of powerful cnt'lip, and all stared expectantly at a large open space at the end of the room. Etas were placing a various selection of drums, chimes, wood or bone or metal xylophones, harps and rattles to the specifications of a group of Yautja. It was the Feast of Cetanu and the ceremonial drummers and dancers were about to perform.
…..
Once the instruments were in place, the performing Yautja stood or sat by their instruments. They were a random assortment of young and old, males and females and all looked in the peak of condition. They had amazingly few scars. Most did not have the massively developed muscles of a warrior and instead had long, lean muscles, much like Matt's best friend, Setg'in-kwei or one of his mentors, Nihkou'te. The females only wore a seemingly simple leather top, though in actual fact, they were heavily tooled with ornate designs. At such a distance they were difficult to see clearly. A loincloth completed the outfit. The males only wore an identical loincloth. All wore bone, tooth or claw necklaces and intrically knotted and woven bands of leather around their upper arms, wrists, thighs and calves. Small strips of leather dangled off and swayed with every movement. Some with longer dreadlocks tied them back from their faces with leather thongs. Matt had never seen any Yautja do that before. A female raised a pair of plain sticks above her head with a clack, and then brought them down on a massive drum. A thumping bass beat began to weave itself around the room. Before long, several other drummers joined in, creating a complex tribal rhythm. A huge drum, bigger even than a female Yautja, who were generally over a eight and a half feet tall, produced an unbelievably low sound, far below Matt's auditory range, who instead felt it pulsing through his bones. He closed his eyes as the strange music enveloped his senses. Then, after a while, most of the lower drums faded out, instead a quick, light tune began playing, comprised mostly of xylophones, snare drums, accented with rasps and harps.
…..
The beautiful, alien music continued for some time, captivating Matt and every Yautja in the room. He even caught some of his neighbors making soft purring noises in happiness. Each song faded into the next, telling a definite story. It was the tale of a great warrior's last hunt. Fast, throbbing, aggressive songs and quick energetic ones and slow, sad songs. There were strange ones that Matt couldn't even describe; too many emotions were stirred with it. The songs often had chanted portions to better convey the story. No singing, because the Yautja were physically incapable of it. Finally, with the great ringing crash of a gong, the music ended. Matt perked up. This was the finale when the warrior faced the God of Death, the Black Warrior, Cetanu in his finale moments before dhi'ki-de. It was his fight to stay alive and it promised to be a good one.
…..
Two Yautja strode to the edges of the open space. The shorter of the two was dressed in ornate ceremonial armor, made to look battle scarred and burned with Kainde Amedha blood. Small teeth, claws and bones dangled around his neck and hidden bells chimed softly with every movement. The other was freakishly tall; nearly eight and a half feet tall. He was representing Cetanu. His armor was smooth, except for faint etchings on the edges. It was completely black. Kainde Amedha claws dangled around his neck, their silvery blackness adding little life to his silent form. Matt knew that the Yautja couldn't see the colors, that they only chose the different materials for armor because of the way they showed heat, or a lack of it. Because one of his teachers designed and made weapons and the electronic parts of armor, he knew that the black armor showed very little heat to the Yautja since it absorbed most of it, but it was an eerie coincidence. An odd assortment of instruments was attached to their costumes. A large snare drum was set over each hip and a series of small wooden boxes in varying sizes was hung from the belt. Each hand gripped a weird bar. Both could be used to strike the instruments on the belt. A guard extended over the knuckles. It was strung with bone rings and depending on how the hand was flexed; they could move freely or be held immobile and silent. Around their ankles were strings of bells, in the shorter dancer's case, or small wood rings on the taller. Nihkou'te, who was a few couches away, yelled loudly and waved frantically at the taller Yautja. Nihkou'te's best friend and the first Yautja Matt met, Guan-Thwei, punched him in the arm to shut him up. A couple others clicked and muttered angrily, shooting glares. The tall warrior gave a very slight nod. Now Matt saw the similarities between the two. The dancer was yellow, streaked with browns, spotted with black. His patterning lacked the reds and oranges of Nihkou'te, but there was similarity enough that Matt could see they were brothers. Nihkou'te's brother's name was M-di'Nan-ku. His partner, or opponent if you refer, was green, lightly mottled with dark green. He was a more average height. They faced each other and bowed deeply. Then they walked close, steps slow and deliberate. Once they were only a few feet away they nodded. They began beating out a perfectly timed, slow rhythm before they launched into an attack.
It was not a conventional attack though. They attacked with sound and grandiose gestures only. A sharper, more aggressive sound, followed with a lunging motion was a blow. A recoil along with a rattle was a block. Each attack and block was carefully choreographed so a swift and complex pattern emerged without injury to the dancers. By altering the force of their footsteps, they changed the volume that the anklets sounded at. M-di'Nan-ku recoiled from a loud drum-beat from his opponent. He thrust the sticks into his belt and fled in a series of handsprings. He landed easily in a crouch. They began playing more suspenseful music as they circled, flaring their mandibles aggressively. Then in a series of heavy drumbeats and sharp raps, they attacked. This last attack was chaotic and M-di'Nan-ku as Cetanu quickly gained the upper hand, beating his partner to the ground. He ended with a slashing motion across the fallen Yautja's throat, timed at the same moment as the gong rang again. He straightened again, raising both arms above his head and roared. The two dancers bowed deeply and retreated to the back. The watching hunters erupted in appreciative roars, stomping their feet and banging the tables. Matt joined in, his human voice sounding odd among the deep, full throated bellows and roars of the Yautja. Matt left the dining hall with the music still ringing in his ears and the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
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