Tales From the New World

#4 Not Exactly Stockholm Syndrome

Note: This oneshot takes place pre-LR, after Bhuni abducts Hope. Not to be taken seriously.

Bhunivelze was having a very bad day. In fact, the past week had been awful. He'd recently kidnapp– hand picked a mortal to be his vessel among the humans, but unfortunately for him, that vessel was proving to be a stubborn little prick. The almighty god had spent the last six days trying to beat the defiance out of him...to no avail.

Hope Estheim, as the man was called by his puny mortal brethren, was possibly the most recalcitrant little shit to ever breathe. He simply would not give in to divine Bhunivelze's will. On Monday, the god had tried gentle persuasion. That had worked about as well as Barthandelus in a supermarket. On Tuesday, he had tried positive reinforcement; "If you agree to submit to me, I'll give you a cookie. It's rainbow chip!" That plan had only caused his capti– guest to laugh in his face. On Wednesday, he tried Chinese water torture. The brat endured it and simply glared at him the whole time. On Thursday, he busted out his phantom, and for the next three days he'd attempted to break the brat's spirit. Using this approach, he finally seemed to be making a bit of progress, however Hope Estheim still refused give in completely. He still clung to sanity like a behemoth to a gorgonopsid steak.

Today, crankier than ever after losing precious sleep over the matter, Bhunivelze had fallen back on one of the most ancient and proven methods of subjugation—a boot to the head. One of Lindzei's gimmicky, tasseled cowboy boots to be exact. (And dammit, Bhunivelze told Lindzei that if he left his sissy-ass cosplay crap lying in the middle of the floor one more time there would be consequences.) Now the little human twerp was lying unconscious on the ground and Bhunivelze was concerned that he might've accidentally killed him. Great going, god of light. Real smooth. Mwynn, this was just what he needed. Why were humans so goddamn fragile?

But then, to his relief, the body of Hope Estheim twitched and his eyes blinked open, somewhat unfocussed, but hey, that didn't matter so long as he was alive.

"Ugh, what hit me?" the human spoke, clutching his head with one of his hands. Good. Bhunivelze hoped it was painful. The man's eyes seemed to focus then and he caught sight of Bhunivelze.

The god smirked down at the pitiful mortal, silently gloating his success at finally fazing the little bastard. He was about to say something witty and triumphant about his divine might, but then the brat frowned at him and said, "Who are you?"

Bhunivelze was seething now. What the frick? Had the human forgotten him? How could this stupid monkey gaze upon his holy self and ask something so asinine! Bhunivelze needed no introduction. The whole universe was ingrained with the knowledge of his glory.

"Dude, you're kinda gross-looking," Hope Estheim continued, tilting his head in confusion. "Are you, like, a clown?"

Bhunivelze opened and closed his mouth a few times, completely thrown and utterly furious at the cheeky little maggot sitting before him. How dare he.

"HOPE ESTHEIM," the god snarled, his voice nearly trembling with rage.

Before he could continue, however, the human made a face and said, "Hope? Is that my name?"

All at once, Bhunivelze's rage was replaced with confusion. The mortal didn't remember his own name? Why? Wait, could this be the condition that humans called amnesia? Could it have been caused by his injury?

The god observed his captive with the slightest trepidation. Almighty as he was, Bhunivelze found himself unsure how to handle this new situation. "Yes, you are the mortal known as Hope Estheim," he confirmed.

The human's frown deepened. "Wow," he said, his tone thick with wonder. "My parents must've hated me."

It was Bhunivelze's turn to frown. "No, your parents..." The god stopped abruptly and his eyes widened in realization. Wait a minute, he thought, the wheels in his head turning rapidly. This could work in his favor. It was the perfect opportunity to fuck with the kid. "I mean, yes!" he amended enthusiastically, his lips curling into an evil grin. "Your parents hated you very much. In fact, they abandoned you as a child and left you to be raised by wolves."

"Wow, really?" the mortal said, sounding surprised and somewhat alarmed. "Jeez, that sucks." He smiled then, throwing the god for a loop once again. "Hey, but wolves are pretty cool."

Bhunivelze's brows furrowed. "What? No! It wasn't cool, it was terrible. Wolves have absolutely no manners. You grew up to be a graceless heathen."

To Bhunivelze's chagrin, the mortal actually seemed fascinated by his story. "No kidding? Huh, I probably wasn't liked much, then."

Bhunivelze smirked, seeing another opportunity to mess with his captive. "Indeed. You were especially hated by the woman Lightning Farron and her comrades."

The human's face fell. "Aw, that's too bad. With a name like Lightning, I bet she was pretty hot."

"Yes," the god affirmed, his smirk growing. "She was the sexiest babe on the planet. You were really missing out. Such a shame that she hated you so much."

The mortal cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. "Yeah, that blows," he agreed. "So, where is she now? Maybe I've still got a shot."

Bhunivelze resisted the urge to laugh in maniacal glee. "You'll never reach her! She's frozen herself in crystal atop my despicable daughter's throne."

All at once, the mortal's eyes narrowed calculatingly and a smirk appeared on his face. "I see. So, Light's alive, huh? Now that I know that, there's no way I'll ever submit to you."

Bhunivelze's mouth opened in outrage. This puny human was playing him! "CURSE YOU!" he bellowed, curling his long fingers into fists. "How dare you play God for a fool! You shall suffer!"

Yes. Bhunivelze, almighty god of light, was having a terrifically terrible day.

Yay for crack! This time I even got Bhuni involved. Nyuk nyuk!

Hope you enjoyed it!

Peace!