Ditzy was relieved to be out of Silvermoon. Those snotty blood elves with their upturned noses and stinkin' attitudes were so freaking suspicious. In short, they had her pegged the minute she walked by. What brats. Sure, the roads were paved super-smooth, which made dragging her bag around a heck of a lot easier… "Stupid cart," she kicked at a pebble and it flew off the path and into the woods with an unsatisfying quiet sound. A crashing explosion would have been preferable.
She shouldn't have been dragging the bag at all. She should, in fact, have made it to her destination and back hours ago, except her stupid go-cart had chosen to explode right in the middle of the Lordaeron ruins. Now THAT had been an explosion. KABOOM! And those undead guys were all such brats about it. A real bunch of RUDES! I mean, why should THEY have cared if there's a few spare parts lying around… a little bit of scorch on the stones… a medium-huge crater and maybe some debris imbedded in the wall? They lived underground anyway. Well, sort of lived. Besides, they didn't call them 'ruins' for nothing. Who could tell the difference? The only undead Ditzy had ever seen who half-looked decent was that Sylvanas broad and even she could have used a little color. Maybe some rouge. A little lipstick, maybe some nail polish… Speaking of…
Dropping the bag and lifting her short, frilly purple skirt in a very unladylike manner, she hoisted up her sagging pink tights. "Sheesh," she mumbled as she stretched her arms upward, walking her hands back and forth with the palms toward the sky as she tried to wring some of the tension out of her aching shoulders. The bag in question was a plain brown sack, about three feet in length, which made it three inches longer than the goblin herself. The sack weighed thirty-five pounds, and the goblin weighed thirty-two, which made the fact that she'd been dragging it like a determined little ant for miles now quite the impressive feat.
"Actually," she'd have said, "ants can carry between like ten and fifty times their own weight on average. And before ya let some dork tell ya it's because their strong or somethin', you should know it ain't like that. It's cause of how body size increases as a cube of length, but the cross sectional area of muscles increases as like the square of length and stuff. So's when like the size of an organism increases, its mass like increases at a much greater rate than the cross sectional area of its muscles and then like the muscles have … You ain't even listening! RUUUUDE!" That was your typical goblin; as highly intelligent as they were lacking in the common sense department.
Grabbing the bag, she used her long, painted claws to pick apart the knot she'd been using as a makeshift handle. The knot was impossibly tight after being tugged at all that time. The added weight from the friction of it being dragged down the city roads and now the rougher paths that wound through the Eversong woods had only served to tighten it further, until the folded ends were nearly melded into a small stone. Luckily, Ditzy had impossibly dexterous fingers. Humming loudly, for Ditzy didn't bother with what some called an "indoors voice", she let her fingers work their magic and the knot fell apart quickly.
Grinning triumphantly, she released the edges of the bag and allowed it to collapse, several rounded objects within rolling as they spread within the confines of the thick fabric. Once the contents had settled, Ditzy flopped down on her knees and settled her butt against the tall rubber heels of her bizarre pink shoes. To compliment the strange ensemble, she wore a sleeveless, tight tan leather vest that flared at the waist like a petticoat, with a neckline that was a bit too low for polite society. The goblin tucked her chin and looked down her pointed nose, eyes crossed as she fished through her cleavage with one hand. The way she rummaged about suggested that what she was looking for was either very small or that there were many items to search through. Finally, she drew forth a shining gold cylinder. It wasn't very small.
Popping the cap off the lipstick, Ditzy leaned in and brushed aside the bag to reveal a half-dozen shining mythril-plated bombs. That Lady Sylvanas chick may have been okay with waltzing around looking practically dead, but Ditzy had assets and when ya had it ya flaunted it. She'd have much preferred her pocket mirror, but that had gone up with the stupid go-cart. Man that had been a cool explosion. The curved surface of the bomb made her big head look even bigger; her skinny neck even more spindly. "My head don't look like a stinkin' cantaloupe!" she cackled at the bombs before she tucked them away. She shook her cantaloupe-head as she retied the sack and re-deposited the lipstick between her big green melons.
It was going on noon. She'd run out of bombs but she still had her handy-dandy long range nail gun and several dozen more fliers. The fliers were the entire reason for her pilgrimage to the Eversong Woods. Now, the other goblins probably wouldn't have thought it wise to print up Grimegear Associates and Services Incorporated posters and then forge Gazril Blastwright's name and a free pony offer at the bottom. Sure, the Eversong woods were only populated with snotty blood elves and the occasional pissed-off Amani troll. Sure, she was probably the only goblin to have set foot here since… ever. Ditzy turned around and scanned the picturesque, eternally-springtime woods. Everywhere she looked it was all jade moss, tall healthy trees, and tiny multicolored flowers. Birds were singing high in the emerald canopy and the comfortably warm air was sweet with fragrant blossoms. She looked down at the dirt path beneath her dusty pink shoes. "No wonder Goblins don't come out this way. Road's too narrow!" She'd have to tell Gazril about this place. A little cutting, some cement. A few well-placed explosions and carefully executed fires and this could be some prime real estate. "Gazril would looove this!" She grinned wickedly. Then she'd definitely get that Coffee-Getter position she'd been practically dying for… ever since that other bitch had 'mysteriously' disappeared.
So maybe using shrapnel bombs to blast posters all over the Eversong woods to advertise for a guild that dealt in shady dealings wasn't exactly common practice, but Ditzy was a thinker; a revolutionary! She was a goblin pioneer with exciting visions for all of goblinkind, not to mention she was exceedingly cute and had great taste in clothes. Now all that remained was for her peers to wake up and recognize her genius! Really, what was the worst that could happen? Were one of her posters to get into the wrong set of hands, what could they possibly do anyway, arrest her? Ditzy faced straight forward, her normally wide-eyed gaze going half-lidded as if she'd suddenly become drunk or tired. Her mouth became a straight line. The end of her tongue stuck out, caught between her thick lips during the abrupt change in expression. Her lower left eyelid started to twitch spastically, and a muscle in her right cheek joined in. A split second later, she was smiling and shaking her head, bright yellow pigtails slapping at her face as she rolled her eyes at the absurdity of it all. She hiked up the back of her sagging tights and waved her free hand dismissively at the disturbing notion that her genius plan could ever fail, "Naaaaaaaaaaah."
At some point during her reverie, she'd dropped the near-empty bag she'd been carrying. Bending over, not paying any mind to the fact that were anyone to happen by they'd get an eyeful of very pink tights stretched over very red panties stretched over very round green hiney (And that had nothing to do with the fact that nobody was around), Ditzy grabbed the remaining stack of fliers and her long range nail gun. Man she loved that gun, even if it did backfire sometimes. "Love ya, Toots," she kissed the side of the gun, leaving a long, pink smudge on the misshapen, dented steel. Unsurprisingly, the makeup on her lips, which she'd paused to reapply more often than she'd stopped to explode poster-bombs, didn't appear to have thinned at all.
She left the bag lying on the path and marched off in search of a good spot for advertising.
Woods was woods was woods, and she was starting to get really bored after about thirty seconds of looking for that perfect spot for the remainder of her posters. That was when she noticed the squirrel. It was soft brown and had huge black eyes and long tufted ears. Its tail was super fluffy and it looked like the cuddliest thing in the world. "How cuuuuuuute," Ditzy giggled as she poked the butt-end of a nail into the business end of the gun. Pulling back the spring-loaded hammer, she slapped a poster onto the nail and then took aim. A sunbeam squeezed through the trees and fell directly on it, at a dramatic angle like a spotlight. The squirrel was sitting on a mossy boulder, eating an acorn that was massive in comparison to its teeny-tiny paws. Ditzy had time to exclaim over the squirrel's silky-looking little digits, "AWWWW!" just before the poster slammed into a nearby tree, the nail pinning it securely in place.
The squirrel tossed the acorn aside and took three spastic leaps, its tail dancing with electric jerks each time it landed. It froze; its shiny black eyes large as it watched the brightly colored, noisy intruder. "Hey! Stay still ya little brat!" Ditzy reloaded the nail gun and slapped another sheet on before taking aim. The squirrel jumped at the last moment and the poster ended up pinned about a foot off the ground on the trunk of a nearby tree. The printed side was against the bark. "Rude!" she screamed.
Moving with frightening speed, for one running on such ludicrously designed shoes, the pigtailed menace shagged after the squirrel amidst a string of shrieking derogatory remarks, mixed with "ooh's" and "aah's" of adoration at its cuteness, and the occasional plea for it to 'just hold still a sec'. To witness the way the multicolor-garbed goblin girl hustled after the panic-stricken rodent in a blur of color and mixed vulgarities might have rendered the gentle viewer bonkers, or at the very least caused seizures.
The two left a trail of right-side-up, upside-down, and backward posters pinned on several trees, and in the skull of one hapless dragonhawk. Before you get all upset, Mister or Miss Reader, you should know that the dragonhawk was quite aged. It was on its last legs. It also wasn't very cute. So stop being such a brat, ya RUUUUDE!
The squirrel, however, was exceedingly cute. It was grossly adorable. "Get back here you fluffy little jerk!" This was gonna be great! What better way to advertise than to have the world's cutest squirrel running around with her poster on it? Gazril would make her the G.A.S.I. Coffee-Getter supreme! She'd be Senior Coffee-Getter! Shit, they'd make a new rank for her; Senior Captain Coffee-and-Assorted-Refreshment-Getter-Matriarch! "Please, Tootsie! I NEED this rank!" The toe of her pump-boot-sneaker caught on a stone and jarred her toe painfully. "It's just a piercing you BRAT!" she growled angrily, waving the gun as she sprinted, yanking her tights up as they slipped toward her knees.
The two burst through a thick underbrush, panting from the exertion of the speedy chase.
"Oh shh…" The squirrel executed a final, majestic leap, bounding easily over the fallen tree that blocked their path, its tail spinning like a lopsidedly loose rudder as its agile limbs stretched and found purchase on a nearby tree at the last possible moment. With a final triumphant flick of its tail, the squirrel disappeared into the canopy.
"… iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii…" Ditzy wasn't so lucky. Though in the instant she saw the tree, she knew with heartbreaking clarity that she didn't have a chance in Hellfire to clear it; she bent her knees deep and kicked off, arms pin-wheeling frantically as she prepared for the painful impact. Ditzy was a fast thinker. Her fast thoughts were often unrelated to the situation, and more often than not didn't do anything to help matters, but they were really fast. She had time to think, 'Well at least I don't have any more bombs on me.' Then she thought, 'Man what a cool way to go, though.' She started to think, 'I wish I had a pony' but then she thought, 'Holy shit I totally just cleared that log!'
"Cooooooool!" she flew headlong through a second curtain of low-hanging green. "Oof!"
Picture this: A grassy clearing. All lush and soft and perfect and shit, right? There's like maybe some butterflies and ladybugs fluttering around, all picturesque-like. An inchworm is chilling out on a blade of grass and he's just bopping his little inchworm butt all over the place. It's a great day and he's the king of inchworms. The sun is shining. The birds are singing. Oh, and then a screaming goblin shoots out of the woods and slams facedown into the grass. So that's basically how it went down. Now that we're on the same page…
Ditzy lay flat on the grass. Her face was buried in the ground, pigtails spread, arms spread, skirt yanked up to her shoulders. Her petticoat-vest thing was yanked up over her head. Strangely enough, her tights were yanked down. Legs were the only part of her that weren't flat. Instead they were bent up over her back. The laces of her shoes had come undone and they swung back and forth as they dangled over the green skin of her exposed back. A halo of flyers surrounded the downed goblin. A single, crumpled sheet was clutched stubbornly in one outstretched hand. The nail gun lay next to the other hand.
Ditzy lifted her head, reached up and picked a piece of grass out of her mouth, "ew-uh." She pushed herself up, settled her butt back on her lower legs and pushed down her shirt with a dainty, "hmph." She lifted her hands, turned them over for inspection. No broken nails. Sighing, she stood up and shoved her skirt down, bent and yanked her tights back up for the thousandth time that day. There was an unpleasant ripping sound and she rolled her eyes, "Greaaaat." Her stupid tights were always getting runs. Beauty was expensive. Good thing she got the thieves' discount when she was low on cash. "Both halves off everything ya can carry!" she snickered. Bartering, after all, was so low-class.
She'd dropped the balled-up paper and now she picked it back up and uncrumpled it, smoothing it against her breast. Gathering the rest of the fliers, she snatched up her gun and marched forward. Ditzy stopped.
"Oh wow." In the not-so-far distance, about a quarter mile ahead in the clearing, she could see what appeared to be a troll lying on the ground with his back to her. She saw trolls all the time, so that wasn't really that exciting. What had caught her interest was the colorful array of little fabric things spread out all around him. Even at this distance, Ditzy knew what she was seeing. Ditzy had eagle-eyes when it came to her interests. And the thing she beheld now certainly ranked high in her interests. Lingerie. "Yard sale," she whispered reverently.
Nodding absently, she began to march forward. There was a lot of underwear to pick through. This could take many hours. With that in mind, she knew she had to keep her eye on the prize. She was a Coffee-Getter first, a sexy momma with a huge lingerie wardrobe first and a half. Well, she would be a Coffee-Getter, as long as she got these stupid fliers up. With a last, longing glance at the glorious lingerie yard sale (Oooh, she saw a dress, too!), Ditzy set to work on the nearest trees.
Two people deserve big thanks for this series of chapters.
The first is the girl who goes by the penname Five Shades. We private messaged back and forth a few times and she had mentioned that she enjoyed Larizu as he appeared in Brekk's story, "At The River". She asked if he had a back story and if he'd be in any more shorts, and I told her that I'd honestly yanked him out of my ass to give Brekky-boy some heals, but told her I might give it a shot. I'm glad I did. Thanks, girl. A lot!
Second, Ornak-The-Super-Awesome-Guy, aka, Gazril Blastwright. This lully roleplayer has been up my butt to write a goblin story for a really long time. At first the idea didn't really appeal. Then I got curious because he kept mentioning it. But the idea felt a bit daunting because I just couldn't think of a damned thing. So, I let Larizu sit out in a field of panties and Ditzy just showed up! I reserved the name Ditzy on Moon Guard just this evening, and I look forward to holding the honorable position of Coffee-Getter come Cataclysm. ::crosses fingers::
One last and I swear I'll shut the fuck up. I'm feeling gushy right now. Blame it on the caffeine. Chuck reads my shit. Chuck lets me read my shit to him, even with my obnoxious speech-impediment, so that I can catch my failtastic typos. Chuck also puts up with my daily evil-doings. Thanks Chuck.
