Forget all dat shit I said about spiteful. Wait, dat come out all wrong. I be spiteful, yeah…
Shit. You'll forgive me, Loa, but my grovelin' abilities seem to be all tapped out. Still, I try. Larizu deserves some credit for dat, right?
Fuck it, all of ya might be spiteful and I don't judge ya. Be spiteful as fuck. Just hear my prayer here, because I be beggin' ya. And it ain't da kind of beggin' where Larizu be drunk and horny and some bitch bein' uptight about da wrong end. Dis be some life or deat', be losin' my mind or keepin' my sanity shit. So for da love of You… Hear me? Pretty please?
Now I about ta ask ya for a lot. But I do as ya ask in return. Just send me a little sign. Larizu be watchin' for ya message. Sometin' small. Like maybe ya carve a note in her fuckin' skull.
I got tree wishes right now. One. Please just grant me a little bit of dat real healin' shit so I can make dis leg walkable because I ain't got no fuckin' supplies out here and dis nasty green bitch gonna break out some kind of healin' bomb. I just know she gonna do it, Loa. And Larizu is scared.
Two, if ya could somehow make her shut da fuck up wit da "eye" and da "nut" questions, dat be nice. I mean, real fuckin' nice.
Tree. Kill her. Please just fuckin' kill her ass. I don't care if she explode and her fuckin' guts get all over me. You can have Larizu's other fuckin' nut.
Woah WHOAH WAIT! Under duress, mon. Under duress… Leave dat nut be. Just… Fuck it. Just one and two be fine. Praise all ya names and shit. Tanks.
"… like jammed in the other like one of them Tauren nesting dolls that…"
Larizu sat on the blood soaked grass in the deceptively springtime-lovely clearing that had become his own personal battlefield. At the field's center were panties. Tons of panties. Blood elf panties. They had smelled like victory; his spoils from a battle he had thought won. He had pillaged those panties, though in his bloodl- … er, his fucklust, he had somehow forgotten the entire battle.
But the tables had turned when his one-man army of troll had been so wrapped up in the sweet panty-smell of victory that he'd failed to sense the evil green goblin threat's advance before it was already upon him… With teeth!
And now it was over. The battle had ended, and Larizu sat, defeated, and tried to tend to his injured. The injured being the mangled rear section of his left leg, from just above the dewclaw to halfway up the calf.
"… puke my guts out when you ate your own …"
The troll wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist and shook it off absently as he stared at the grievous bites. Larizu was a healer. He had seen a lot of shit. He'd seen stuff worse than this by far, but that shit wasn't on his person and so paled by comparison.
"… see into the back of your head…"
Larizu leaned his head back and rolled his eyes skyward and then further until the whites showed, but he wasn't trying to see into the back of his head and his good eye couldn't. Neither, of course, could the glass one. He kept his eyes shut as he leaned forward again to inspect his fucked up leg as he prayed silently to the deaf ears of his Loa for the power to heal the shredded mess. He was certain that if he caught even a glimpse of the goblin, he would spring to his feet, wounded calf or not, and break his damn leg in half kicking the shit out of her.
"… -asted kinda like chicken with some kinda…"
Why should Gods and Loa, in all their glorious power, listen to the voice of one who whimpered and whined like a little bitch? Larizu couldn't blame them. He refrained from his praying and begging. It wasn't easy. He was flinging exceedingly violent images at every deity whose name he could recall, and some he had conjured up for the occasion, of a very dead or dying goblin female. One with piss-yellow pigtails. NOT sunshine. Piss.
"… tiny tusks are actually kinda…"
Larizu winced and ran his tongue along the base of one tusk. They weren't tiny; he just had really full lips. He shook his head and tuned out the maelstrom of agonizingly shrill discord…
"… total riot! I mean a priest that…"
… which sought to tear his concentration…
"… screamin' like a girl off …"
... and indeed his sanity…
"… monetary compensation…"
(Bitch better be fuckin' kiddin'!)
"… saved your life 'cause a hero's work…"
… to shreds.
"… probably like whip up a healin' bomb or somethin' if I…"
Well, mon, if ya needed a signal, dat be it. Now heal dis shit or get healin' bombed to a hell dat's likely all yellow-hair goblin bitches wit mouts dat don't shut da fuck up.
"… can fit the whole thing up my…"
"Shh!"
"RUDE!" Ditzy squawked angrily, crossing her skinny arms and plopping down on her generously padded behind. Her too-short skirt had somehow gotten tucked into the back of her tights.
"Shut up." Larizu growled, keeping his gaze trained on the nasty bites. If he couldn't heal this thing, he might just gnaw it the rest of the way off and beat her ass to death with it. Larizu shook his head. Concentrate, ya dumb bastard.
"What're ya bein' such a BRAT about? And you could THANK me, ya know!"
Thank…?
That broke his concentration. Larizu raised his hairless brow and sighed deeply, drew his lips into a thin and none-too-friendly smile as he raised his eyes to meet hers, blinking rapidly. "What was dat?" he asked, in a very strained tone.
"Oh bolts, ya gotta be kiddin' me. We're doin' the whole no speaky orcy thing again? Fiiiine! Ditzy… Save… LIFE! Larizu… THANK… Ditzy! Boltz-bananas! Sheesh!" she rolled her eyes.
"Ya tried ta kill me." Larizu was too puzzled, too worn to even make an attempt to dissect her fucked up logic. He stated the fact blatantly. He didn't want her to respond. He wanted her to shut up. But there was no way he was giving in and thanking her. Hell no. If he thanked her, she'd be doing backflips, likely kicking him in the face in the process.
"Umm… hello? You were like choking on your own shit? How was that attempted murder?"
"It wasn't sh- … Den why'd ya scream 'Die'?"
Ditzy shook her head and gaped at him like he was the most impossibly feeble-minded moron she'd ever bit on the leg before, "Well what do you scream when you'rekickin' someone in the back? 'Welcome to the jungle'? Uh-duuuuh."
I bet I could jam my tiny tusk in her eye socket and still have some left ta scramble up dat nasty little brain of hers. Maybe fuck up her speech centers, mon.
Larizu then got a mental image of his face pressed up to her eye socket far enough to reveal those last VALID inches of tusk and his gorge began to rise. "Tankya fer tryin' ta kill me. Now shut up so I can concentrate."
"You're welcome," Ditzy huffed. "Now ya can apologize."
"YA BIT ME! WHAT DA HELL YA WANT ME TA 'POLAGIZE FOR?" Larizu roared with such vehemence that Ditzy's sneer faltered.
She then resorted to pouting. Larizu rolled his eyes as the goblin shrugged her shoulders, turned her head to the side and muttered, "For callin' me fat." Even her mutter was too damned loud.
Larizu squinted, tilting his head. "What?" His teeth showed and his forehead wrinkled as he tried to figure out what this bitch was trying to pull. "I didn't call ya fat."
Ditsy blew her cheeks out and gave him a sideways look. She looked away and then looked at him again, tossing her pigtails. She batted her lashes with such force that one of them finally surrendered and broke loose, falling under the weight of many layers of mascara.
Larizu thought those lashes looked like teeth. Everything would probably look like teeth to him from now on. He shook himself to will away the disturbing notion of crusty mascara goblin-eye jaws and demanded, "Well?"
Ditzy sniffed, uncrossed her arms and flicked an imaginary speck off of the front of her purple skirt. She did nothing, however to untuck the back of it from her tights. She lifted and dropped the heels of her ugly shoes, which were still splayed out in front of her and facing apart. "Well," she sighed, "We both know you were thinking it."
Ditzy looked at Larizu. Larizu glared back. The glass eye was a very good facsimile, but it was apparent which was the real eye, as the pupil was rapidly shrinking to a very very tiny dot and the iris appeared to be deepening in its crimson shade. It was Ditzy's turn to look uncertain.
"Sorry I bitcha!" she blurted.
Larizu followed her gaze down and realized he had been squeezing his leg, just above the wound with such force that he left impressive fingerprints as he released his grip. Well, that stopped the bleeding. He looked up.
"Well?"
"… Well what?"
"Do ya think I'm fat?"
Larizu blinked and felt the glass eye roll. Great, now it was all unstuck. Fuck. He answered blandly, "I tink ya got a skinny neck."
Ditzy grinned and hugged herself, swinging her shoulders side to side as she lifted her big -what the hell was holding them up?- green breasts and then dropped them bouncingly, "Works for me!"
"Trilled. Now shut da fuck up so I can concentrate. I gotta heal dis ting."
"…"
Larizu shot a hand up, palm-out, without taking his eye off the tattered flesh and exposed muscle. Oh Loa was that bone? "Jjjt! Save it." She promptly bit back the comment he had easily foreseen. He couldn't help but cringe at the sound of her wicked teeth clicking together. He could have been spared that little detail, but at least she wasn't babbling.
Ditzy leaned forward, grabbing the tongues of her high heeled sneaker boots as she watched eagerly. Larizu was holding his hands out over the wound. She was pretty impressed with her work. He deserved a little credit too, what with all the shaking and screaming he'd done. She'd held on longer just to hear him scream. It was very important that he concentrate, if he were going to do something that wasn't totally boring. Being the super awesome hero that she was, she managed not to make a single sound as she smirked at the memory of his shrill cries and hysterical bellowing. Her face hurt from contorting, though. A hero's work was never painless.
Loa weren't listening, but that was fine for now. He had other sources of power to fall back on. Light was a little pissed at him, too, but that was a given when one was filled with murderous thoughts as he was now. Larizu swallowed, concentrated. Connections were very important, for one such as Larizu. That is, loose but tentatively friendly acquaintances were good in large numbers when one was notorious for pissing off everyone that he dealt with. Call in a favor here and there; borrow from one to pay off the other, and before you knew it, everyone was happy again… for a while.
He called to the essence of the earth around him. Concentrate. The soil gave life to the plants, the grass and the trees. The trees fell and rotted; fed the little mushrooms that grew there and then they returned to the earth and became new soil. The soil mixed with the rain that fell from the sky, driven by winds that carried the seeds of new life. Flowers bloomed in empty and scarred places, spread by wind and rain; fed by rain and earth and the sun that warmed his naked back…
Ditzy watched Mister Holyman and wondered if he would throw a total bitchfit if he failed. Well, duh. She wondered if he'd cry. So there was a good fifty-fifty she could blow him a new leg with a healing bomb if he couldn't patch it up with some of his troll Doo-Doo. And another fifty-fifty she could whip up a badass hydraulic mechanoleg with any spare parts if the healing bomb turned out to be a regular bomb. So that was a full hundred in his favor right there.
Still, if he somehow managed to pull this off, it would be pretty rad to see his leg like grow back together or whatever. Maybe it would like explode back together. Cooool! Also, he was like moving his lips and making really retarded faces and she needed a breather from all that exercise she'd been getting, so at least it was something to look at. A hero's work was never… It didn't burn enough ass-fat off for how much bullshit you went through. Bolts.
… Me toughts, me heart be pure. Life, grant me power. Azerot, mend Larizu dat Larizu may mend dems dat be needin' it…
Subtle changes in the wind, the earth beneath him and the grass that tickled and itched where it touched his skin. Perhaps the breeze moved the goblin's hair as it did his. He didn't notice or care. His shadow seemed to deepen as he stared at the leg, let his hands hover over it.
Azerot, life, aid Larizu. The troll blinked slowly, his expression grave as he stared at the wounded leg and the trembling hands that were spread, hovering above it. There. There; a barely perceptible nudge, something pressed into his left palm. So vague, distant, that it may be his desperate imaginings. Softer than wind. Softer than still air.
Aid me. He was a child of Azeroth, the dream that kept it, the love and life guarded by the misunderstood and all-but-forgotten Aspects. While Larizu and billions who simply called her home would never understand, couldn't comprehend; Azeroth knew each and every one of her children, parts of her.
There; in his right hand, a condensation of sorts. Slight, so slight. Though there was nothing to see, he could almost imagine, were he to flip his hand over and peek, there would be a slight glow in the palm. Larizu was silent. Ditzy and everything around him had ceased to be. His injury; his reason for asking, had ceased to be. His eye wandered slowly back and forth between his hands as he waited. Please.
Another minute passed; two; three; ten.
Man I gotta pee. Maybe he's havin' like a seizure. Ten more minutes and I am so gonna pants, er… dress him. Heh. Yeah. I'm gonna show his butt to the world! Screw, I hate gnomes. It's like they think they're tha only short guys who know a bolt from a stinkin' nut. Hah! Nut! Balls. Heh. Wait, did I say that out loud? Nope, he's still sittin' there. Boooring…
I gotta make a squirrel catcher. Maybe like a bomb with like squirrel bait? What the screw do squirrels eat? Oh yeah, nuts! Hahaha! Balls. And maybe like a shrapnel grenade with like posters stuck all over the nails. BINGO! Wait… wasn't that like the name of that dwarf's stinkin' farm mutt? Yeah, haha. What a freakin' mess that was. Who knew dogs liked meat bombs? Ooh, wait. Wasn't there a shrapnel bomb kit on sale in Bombs and Boners Monthly? Shit, I gotta see if I can find a back issue. Stupid fire.
Ponies. Every girl's dream. Well, after Coffee-Getter. Bitches better back off! Crap, I bet they only got back issues a Bombs and Tits. They always print more of them. Rude! Well, at least I get my 'Boners free, heh. Tits pay the bills! Well, pics of tits pay the magazine subscriptions, as least.
Crap on plywood, is he just gonna sit there?
Saaaay. I bet he'd totally read Bombs and Tits! I mean, every other page is like tits! I mean, he's a used panty freak! Obviously a weirdo. Shit, he might even like the "brother" publication. Course, he ain't cover material. Meh… Well, he did say he was a grower...
"Hey ya wanna get some free mags sellin' photos of yer d-?" Ditzy clapped both hands over her mouth, eyes wide. Her pencil-filled, high arched brows rose to meet her side-swept bangs, stretching her blue eye shadow along with it. She had jumped to her feet. Her tights were around her knees. Her purple skirt was tucked in the back of her red panties.
Larizu stared up at her, pure hate in his eyes. Even the glass one seethed, though it had rolled inward and was seething at the bridge of his nose. One side of his mouth was smiling and the other was frowning but, man, he sure wasn't smiling. His lower eyelids rose at their centers in rainbow shapes. Nothing about the troll was sunny.
"I be…"
Ditzy had glanced up at Larizu's pissed-off face. What a brat. But her gaze had quickly dropped to his leg and the hands that hovered there. The air around them was doing… something. They were totally gonna explode. Ditzy took a step back. This was gonna be so rad!
"… so fuckin'…"
Hacksaw my balls, he's like actually doin' somethin'! Bolts that is COOL! The air around Larizu's hands were gathering… something. It was like a storm were collecting, but it wasn't really clouds, there. Ditzy wasn't a describer… she was a doer. A hero. This was gonna be so fuckin' rad! She continued to take tiny, slow steps backward, her untied laces dragging on the ground as her tights stretched and wrinkled between her knees.
"… SICK of all ya sh- AAAAAHAHAAAH!"
"YEAAAAH! YEAH FUCK YEAH!"
Both troll and goblin shook the meadow and surrounding forest with their screams, the former in agony, and the latter in ecstatic jubilance. As Larizu's hands channeled waves of healing magic, granted him by Azeroth, and his leg completed weeks of healing in mere minutes; he roared at the sky. His sounds were wordless cries of hysterical pain. Ditzy's cries were slightly more articulate. By about a hair.
"YEAH! YEAH! FUCK YEAH!" She leapt about, grabbing her tights with one hand and pulling them up as she ran in place, her other hand yanking her pigtail hard enough to stretch her eyelid. "KICK IT'S FUCKING ASS LARIZU! HEAL THAT MOTHERFUCKER!"
Her shoe kicked off, spun upward and bounced off her own forehead. Ditzy's frantic screeching and gesturing didn't pause even as the laces slapped her in the ears. "BLOW IT THE FUCK APART! MAKE ITCHER FUCKIN BITCH!"
Larizu didn't hear her over his own howls as his hands continued to drain any potential infection and foreign debris and bacteria, it floating up and collecting against his left palm in a tiny marble. His right hand sent a constant flow of bright, white energy that appeared both to be solid and made of light. The leg pulsed as it first spread and then strands of new muscle snaked across to replace the old. The muscle tightened and the deep wounds began to cinch themselves shut. Scar tissue formed, shed, lifted off to join the debris in his left hand. New, thinner scar tissue formed. He screamed lungs out, his head thrown back. Larizu didn't have a high pain threshold.
"Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck! That. Is. Soooo. Cooowuuuuull!" Ditzy had finished stretching her face by her pigtails and yanking her tights up to her tits and had stepped back into her ugly shoe as she flung herself to the ground. She now clung to Larizu's toes, her hands squeezing them and pulling them apart in a victorious "V" as she stared at the miraculous, though non-exploding leg. She had stopped screaming and been reduced to excited cackling. "Holy shit! Did you see that? Hahahahaha! Bolts that was fuckin' wild! Ahahahahaha!"
South of the grand city of Silvermoon, home of the haughty blood elves and their sexy panties, in the middle of the scarred but ever-lovely Eversong Woods, there was a lovely meadow. A rainbow of flowers dappled the dreamlike perfection of the clearing, where butterflies and hummingbirds danced in the clean, quiet air. A perpetual springtime wood surrounded a perpetually heavenly and untouched pasture.
Here, amidst the sweet smell of wildflowers and beneath the gentle, warming touch of the sun; there sat a seemingly unlikely pair. The red-crested troll sat on his haunches, head thrown back as he gaped blindly at the sky, panting. The vociferous goblin kicked her legs as she clung to his foot with both hands and giggled excitedly.
Life went on. Wars were fought. Peace was pursued. Birth, life, and death continued. Trees fell, rotted, and became the soil that helped birth new trees. Lands were razed and born anew. Old Gods dreamt of chaos and new deities sought to guide and strengthen and purify those they deemed fit for future battles. The sands of time swirled. The Dream continued to pulse. Azeroth continued to spin.
~I'wilo
