TWO THOUSAND POSTS OMAKE SPECIAL PART #1
THE OVERMIND
For all its usefulness, there were times when she hated technology.
It wasn't that she had an issue with the idea of using tools to overcome the natural limitations of one's body, mind, or soul. In another time and place, she'd held the memories and knowledge of the greatest race the universe had ever known, god-like shapers and shepherds of worlds and stars and life, who'd mastered the arts of technology as surely as they had the mysteries of the mind and the secrets of the flesh. She'd encountered lesser species by the dozen who'd turned to science and engineering to obtain the abilities that the plans of their makers and the idle whims of the universe had not seen fit to bestow upon them.
Through her children, she'd experienced a billion, billion deaths wrought not by red-stainted fang and claw or biochemical concoctions, but by harnessed flame, artificial thunder, and steel forged in a myriad of forms.
No, technology was not useless. Its only failing was that those who wielded it against her and hers had always been at some disadvantage, relative to the resources her previous self had commanded.
The lesser races had not mastered the sciences to anything like the levels achieved by the Xel'naga over the endless cycles. There was no shame in that, for whatever knowledge they had, they'd earned on their own merits, and they wielded it in defense of their lives with flickers of the same unity of purpose that the Swarm embodied. There was much to be admired there, even in those who'd fought the Zerg and failed, and for those who'd faced the boundless tides of the Swarm and escaped, there could be only respect - and anticipation for their next meeting.
And the Xel'naga themselves? They'd wielded biology, technology, and psionics together, welding them into a whole greater than the already-considerable sum of its parts. Had they been prepared for the onslaught of the newborn Swarm, been willing to abandon or at least delay their great Purpose in order to preserve their own lives, had they not been betrayed by the Dark One, even the Zerg would have been shattered.
But that was not the nature of the Wanderers From Afar. Always and only did they nurture life, even in its most twisted and vile forms. Evasion, deception, subdual, alteration, containment, the endless sleep of stasis - these were their preferred methods when they encountered life gone awry from the Purpose, those rare entities they could call peers, or the fleeting few that were above even the Shepherds of Life. To end life before its time was anathema to them, even at the cost of their own lives. Only in the face of threats to ALL life, all Creation, would the Xel'naga set aside their principles and fight to kill.
The Zerg had become that threat, but their makers had known it not, not until the Swarm was battering at the hulls of their world-ships. And then, their response was hampered by the traitors in their midst, the agents of Amon. Automated defenses, sabotaged to remain inert, or even to turn against their masters. Psionic wards, nullified; attempts to enthrall and quiet the killing rage of the Swarm, broken from within. Killing blades driven into unsuspecting backs and throats, reaving ancient souls from ancient flesh and casting them into the Void - where Amon waited, ready to receive and feast upon their essence.
Technology, sundered. Psionics, countered. All the Xel'naga had retained to defend themselves was their own flesh, and they were not killers by nature.
The Zerg were.
It was her first victory... and her first defeat.
In the ruinous aftermath, surrounded by the corpses of her children and her parents, she'd wept.
Even haunted by the bitter, broken memories of how easily the tools of silicon and steel could be taken away from or turned against their masters, she didn't discount the usefulness of technology, or despise those who had to rely on it.
But sometimes, she hated it for its limitations.
Times like now, as the psionic amplifier she'd spent hundreds of hours and thousands of dollars to produce began to emit sparks, and smoke, and the low-pitched whining alarm she'd programmed in for just such emergencies.
Cursing in fragments of a language unknown to any other being on Earth, living, dead, or otherwise, the woman who bore the shattered memories of the Overmind cut off the flows of psychic power she'd been manipulating and tore the overheated amp from her head. She didn't fear that a stray spark would ignite her hair or damage any of the other equipment in the room; her power without the amplifier might be less, and less optimized for manipulating elemental forces, than what she could wield WITH it, but snuffing such small flames was still well within her unenhanced abilities. Her concern was for the device itself, as more sparks would mean more stress, more damage, more time and materials to repair...
Looking over the damage with eyes and mind, she sighed.
At its heart, the amp was based on the work of Terran researchers affiliated with the Ghost Program. Even before securing the ultimate prize on Tarsonis, her prior incarnation had gone to some lengths to acquire such knowledge - via careful assimilation of the brains housing it - to better understand what potential the Terrans held, and how they'd learned to enhance it.
Perhaps because of how near the end of her previous existence that knowledge had been earned, or how closely intertwined it was with the ideas of Terrans and humanity in general, it was among the more intact of the memories that decades of meditation and years of retrocognitive investigation had yielded up to her waking mind.
The Overmind had laughed at the simplicity of those designs, the work of untutored children scrambling for answers in the dark, even as it marveled at what the device represented. It was an example not only of how limited Terran understanding was, but of just how far they'd come without the direct intervention of the Xel'naga, how CLOSE they'd been to making something extraordinary of themselves, a race that might yet stand alongside the Firstborn.
Now, sixty thousand light-years away from the Koprulu Sector, five centuries uptime, and most likely a few dimensions over from the one where she'd previously been the avatar of the eternal will of the Swarm, the woman could hear those selfsame Terran researchers laughing at the crude thing she'd scraped together from bits of late Twentieth Century technology.
It was... somewhat less respectful than the laughter of the Overmind, but then, Terrans could be petty assholes.
Setting the damaged but not entirely unsalvageable amplifier aside, the woman rolled her chair over to a nearby microscope, adjusted the focus, and looked down into the dish holding a particular cell culture that she'd been trying to "encourage" to develop in a particular direction.
...
Another alien curse escaped her lips, but her heart wasn't in this one. She'd known, when the amp started to fail, that it wasn't a question of whether she'd completed the alterations or not, merely a question of whether or not her failure would result in the death of the cell-culture, or just a mutation into a limited, inferior echo of her goal.
Today, her failure was one of the total ones. Under the lens of the microscope, she could see ruptured cell-walls, from which off-color protoplasm and organelles spilled into the dish, the movements of life stuttering and stilling.
In her mind's eye, she could picture the deeper and more esoteric changes that her lab equipment wasn't capable of picking up.
Chemical bonds, severed.
DNA, unraveling.
Essence, fading.
Experiment, fail-
She squeezed her eyes shut and muttered, "Get out of my head, Abathur."
Shaking off the vague recollection of the prickly and prideful Evolution Master and his... distinctive speech pattern, she pushed away from the table and leaned back in her chair, rubbing at her eyes in dismay - and then, after a moment, in fatigue. How long had she...?
A glance at the clock revealed it to be nearly seven in the morning, and she winced.
The last time she'd looked, it had been just before midnight.
She was going to be in SO much trouble for pulling another all-nighter.
Once the clean-up and lock-down of her workspace were complete, she exited through a small but well-made airlock, pausing in between the closing of the "inner" door and the opening of the "outer" to run a discharge of psionic static over her clothing and person, identifying and killing off any biological passengers she'd acquired. This was followed by a different application of psionic energy, one directed primarily inward to fortify and re-invigorate her body so that it could handle several more hours of operation without any loss of short-term performance or long-term health.
She might yet be hit-or-miss at manipulating the biology of other things, but her own body? MUCH easier to deal with.
That done, she hung her lab coat on a waiting hook and started climbing the stairs, emerging into a large, comfortably upper-middle-class house that was entirely at odds with the contents of the basement - which she would freely admit were just a Jacob's ladder and an operating table with restraining belts away from being the spitting image of a mad scientist's lair.
Squinting in the sunlight, the woman looked into the living room and saw a trio of young bodies sitting on the couch, arguing over who got to pick the next show to watch on the television. From this angle, there wasn't much to set them apart, but one was wearing a brown shirt, another yellow, and the last purple.
She nodded, and moved on to the kitchen. Here, three more members of the family sat around the table, enjoying a leisurely breakfast. One was a middle-aged man dressed in business casual, his jacket hanging near the door to avoid crumbs and stains. The second was a girl around sixteen, who wore a red blouse and blue jeans. The last was a boy a bit younger than the girl and dressed in a similar manner, with a white dress shirt.
The man looked up. "Good morning, dear." In a gently chiding tone, he added, "Busy night?"
"I know, I know," she sighed, raising her hands in surrender. "I promise, no more all-nighters for the next month."
The girl, who was wearing a striking red blouse and blue jeans, smirked. "Blew the amp, didn't you, Mom?"
The woman scowled at her eldest, prompting muted snickers from her son.
"Tia," the man said, "be nice. Your mother could have a completely different reason for taking time off her project."
"In theory, yes," the girl agreed.
In response to the commentary - unspoken as well as voiced - the mother of the family looked around. "So, the triplets are in the living room, you three are here, and" - she paused, looking down the hall towards a small army's worth of shoes lined up near the door - "Hunter and Zack are out for a run?"
Tia nodded. "Blake's already eaten and retreated to the Fortress of Solitude-"
"We prefer to call it the Batcave," the boy interjected.
"-which leaves the little angel," his sister went on, a sarcastic note entering her voice. "She's still in bed, and she wants Mommy to come wake her up."
Sighing at this all-too typical symptom of the sibling rivalry that existed between the only two girls among her brood, the woman nodded and proceeded to the second floor, where she entered a small bedroom decorated in the fashion of a young girl still shy of her tenth year. Said child was, as stated, still tucked into her bed, laying on her right side with the blankets pulled up to her chin. Even with the clear light of day peeking through the drawn curtains, it could have been the image of a innocent at rest, but an air of defiance hung over that little swaddled form, making it clear that she was merely faking sleep.
In spite of everything, the mother of nine smiled softly at the antics of her youngest and decided to play along. She crept around behind the totally-not-awake little girl - who was definitely not too old for this kind of thing - reached out, and rocked her gently.
"Come on, Sarah," she crooned. "Time to get up."
Omake: Who is Alex?
Buffy: Who is 'Alex'?
Willow: Literally Satan.
Cordy: Shush. Don't listen to her, she's just jealous because until he moved away from Sunnyhell, Alex was the smartest kid in school and the best athlete.
Willow: He cheated! With magic!
Cordy: Which was very smart of him.
Omake: Briar Meets the Folks
"Mom. dad, here she is. This is Briar." You say as the two of you come into the living room, where Briar immediately has to catch a zelda-sized hugging missile.
"Nice to meet you, Miss Briar." Dad says, while mom...? What is she muttering about?
"Yes, of course." She catches herself with a smile. "I'm sorry, my son just made me deal with something I thought I could stay clear from for another decade or so."
Hey! You're almost nine, there's no way you will only have a girlfriend to bring home at ninete...
"He tends to do that, yes." Briar smiles as she expertly deals with Zelda. "It is nice to finally be able to talk to you, Mr. and Ms. Harris."
Et tu, Briar?!
"I'm sorry for doubting your existence at first, but..." Dad sighs.
"Don't worry." She nods to him. "Adults without access to magic, on a place like this... I can say with certainty that you are the kind of parents others can only wish to have."
"Thank you. For the compliment, your understanding, and also for taking such good care of our little boy." He replies honestly. "As part of that responsibility..."
DAAAAD! Well, you DID unshrink her so they can talk shop...
"A moment please, Tony." Mom interrupts before switching to her mom voice. "Who made those clothes?"
"Cordelia Chase bought them as soon as she was able to see me. Why?"
She turns directly to you. "Alexander. You will get a new closet with stuff for enlarged Briar only. Can you make a magical lock only she can open?"
"Well, the familiar bond makes sure we share the same aura, which would be the key there... But mom! I'd never access her stuff without her permission!"
"Still better figure out a way to keep it under her control only. I'm sure you find one. As for your question" She turns to Briar. "Those aren't bad per se, but still include major oversights for this form." Why is Briar blushing now?! "They have holes for the wings, for starters. They were also picked by an eight year old, so they aren't what thirteen year old girls would wear here. Not even a proper version of the stuff I see in the hospital each day. Anyway, you'd stand out, and the whole reason for this is to blend in, isn't it? We need to talk sizes later, but that is not an immediate issue now you're aware."
"Thanks for that." Her blush fades. "And I'm sure we will figure things out."
"Absolutely." Dad joins in again. "Alex, please take Zelda and Moblin out to play so we can talk." As Zelda starts to protest, he adds "It's time for Moblin's walk and you will have time to show her your room later, Squirt."
You only sigh. Yes, you want to hear this, but then again it got weird already and having Zelda underfoot...
Besides, it IS time for Moblin's walk.
OOC: I don't know about FSA, but in LttP, Zelda isn't a shrine maiden, she's one of the maidens who are the descendants of the Seven Sages/Wise Men, and thus are being targeted by Aghanim for sacrifice/transition to the Dark Realm, in order to break the Sages' Seal on Ganon. Zelda spends most of the early game hiding out in a church, but that's because: a) it's where the secret tunnel from the castle led, after Link busted her out of the dungeon; and b) churches are traditional places of sanctuary.
On a completely unrelated note, have the next omake:
TWO THOUSAND POSTS OMAKE SPECIAL PART #2
LU TZE
There were a number of reasons why the building that housed the Sunnydale branch of the School of Five Elements included a rooftop garden.
One of these reasons was that the garden had already been in place when Lu Tze came into ownership of the building below. It was smaller then, the plants less healthy thanks to a lack of protective wards and poorer care on the part of their owner, who - like so many other unfortunate members of Sunnydale's population - had been drawn into the darker side of the community, steadily losing interest in the mundane pleasures of life in favor of a fearful fascination with the secrets of the hidden world, before it finally devoured him.
Possibly just metaphorically, but as no body had ever turned up, there was a non-zero chance that the literal interpretation of that expression would indeed have been accurate.
The second reason for maintaining the garden was pure practicality. By the time he'd decided to settle down atop the Hellmouth and purchased this building to be his place of residence and work, Lu Tze had long since learned the value of meditating while surrounded by Nature. True, rooftop gardens might not have been what the old masters, learned sages, and wise healers of centuries past had in mind when they used the term "Nature," but when necessity forced one to make one's home amidst the sprawling urban jungle of modern cities, one took what one could get.
No matter how fast you could move, having to run out to the remote wilderness every day just to find a nice spot to take a few minutes to yourself was a sign of poor planning and limited imagination. And that was before taking into account southern California's major demon problem, or the Hellmouth that was the ultimate cause of ninety-nine percent of it.
Seriously, trying meditate in THAT? You'd be LUCKY if the consequences were so minor as a developing case of the crazies. More likely by far that something would pop up and try to eat your face. And while a martial artist on Lu Tze's level could handle most such threats, "most" wasn't "all."
Besides, it was completely counter-productive to the goal of meditation.
Better by far to seek inner peace and tranquility and harmony with a carefully-cultivated piece of Nature, while also enjoying the benefits of a threshold and the best wards one's modest finances - and no small number of traded favors - could buy. They'd at least keep the bulk of the Hellmouth's influence out, purify what little slipped through by clinging to all those who could and did cross the boundaries each day, and provide some degree of deterrence against common supernatural irritants. That was far, far more than could be said for any part of the undeveloped wilderness within a hundred miles.
It did not hurt at all that a well-tended garden was a renewable source of some simple herbs, including the ones for his favorite tea. That Lu Tze had to see to the garden himself, poking around in the dirt as a much, much younger man - more of a boy, really - had once sworn he'd never do again...
...well, that was another reason to have it.
A reminder of his youth, of a humble home and way of life he'd never wholly appreciated the simplicity of until it was already lost to him.
A memento of, and apology to, family.
It was the matter of family that occupied the old master's mind on this bright afternoon as he sat in the shade of a wooden parasol, enjoying the contrast between the light breeze and his warm cup of tea.
Once upon a time, Lu Tze had been part of a large extended family of farmers who resided in a series of villages, small towns, and unincorporated holdings where it seemed, at least to the eyes of boys and young men with their heads full of dreams, that nothing ever happened. The youngest of seven siblings, and the third-born son, he'd stood to inherit little, if any, of his father's property: the lion's share naturally went to his eldest brother; his second brother married the daughter of another family that had no sons of their own, taking on their name and the rights and duties to their lands in exchange; and of course, there were the dowries of his four elder sisters to be paid.
There simply wasn't much left for a last- and late-born child, and once Lu Tze had grasped that fact, he'd begun looking for opportunities off the farm, away from the constant, bitter, and endless work that would never enrich him.
That he'd found his way in the constant, bitter, and endless work of learning the martial arts was surely the gods having a laugh at his expense. But if so, at least they'd directed him to his master, who'd taken an ignorant young boy with some talent for the art and helped him to make something of himself - even if the old bastard HAD taken a certain manic glee in going about those improvements the hard way.
Lu Tze snickered. He did not doubt that many of his own students held the same opinion of HIM that he'd held of his own master, but truly, they had NO idea. Some of the training methods that ancient madman had subjected him to, decades ago and half a world away, would get him arrested for child abuse if he'd been fool or sadist enough to attempt them on his current crop of learners.
Then again, he mused, young Alexander has access to magic. Setting up an area where he and other advanced students could undertake a more intense regime, without offending the delicate sensibilities of their neighbors, might well be possible. And with Briar's healing magic... hmmm...
A thought for another time, though.
At the moment, Lu Tze was pondering what to do about his niece's daughter.
Despite coming from a large family, Lu Tze didn't have a lot of relatives left - at least, not that he was close to. The age he'd lived to, the choices he'd made in his youth, and the enemies he'd gained in the shadowy world of the martial factions and the deeper darkness of the Moonlit World beyond it, to say nothing of the years he'd chosen to seclude himself atop the Hellmouth, had all worked to ensure that.
Yumi and her family were the major exception to the rule, and for all that he'd been terrible about keeping up his end of the family connection, Lu Tze did value it.
After all, she was his favorite sister's child, and the spitting image of the one sibling he'd been genuinely fond of. Which... was honestly part of the reason why he found it so difficult to visit, even as he cherished those rare moments of contact all the more because of it.
And now, thanks to his so very talented, so very troublesome star student, Lu Tze knew that Yumi's little girl - another echo of Li, at least in face and form; the spirit was ENTIRELY different - had enough magical potential to put her on the radar of any number of special interest groups, opportunistic entities, or random supernatural incidents.
He could not, in good conscience, let that talent go uncultivated, now that he was aware of its existence. The chances of young Yumiko being taken advantage of or simply PREYED upon if she remained ignorant were far too great. She had to be trained enough to hide her ability, so that trouble would not follow her home by random chance, but also to be able to deal with said trouble, if and when it intentionally made its way to her door.
The old master was no magic-user himself, but a lifetime in the shadows hadn't just earned him enemies. He had contacts, some trustworthy enough to consider allies, a few he would even call friends, and he could think of several that he could trust Yumiko's instruction and safety to. One or two might be honestly pleased to take her on, and the rest would at least treat her basic education as a means of clearing old debts with him and upholding their common obligation as members of the mystical fraternity - to nurture talent, to preserve and pass on knowledge, and to do their small part to help keep the hidden world secret from the majority.
But how to sell it to her mother?
Yumi had a general awareness of the Moonlit World, enough to understand how to protect herself and her family from the most common dangers using mundane means, and to regard the entire hidden society as an association of thugs, thieves, and ne'er-do-wells, sprinkled with lunatics and proverbial monsters, to go along with the literal ones.
...in fairness, she wasn't entirely WRONG in that opinion.
In a world not too different from the current one, Lu Tze would have simply made arrangements with Alexander and his family for a brief return visit to Yumi's house, or a series of such, so that the boy and Briar could explain for his niece why Yumiko needed training, what the risks were to leaving her ignorant of her potential, and the benefits in realizing in.
In the current world, Alex was a LITTLE too trouble-prone, monster-friendly, and fight-happy for Lu Tze to believe he'd accomplish much beyond reinforcing Yumi's existing attitude towards the supernatural.
Still, the boy HAD shown some remarkable maturity and charisma in the past. Perhaps his tutor should take a chance, and trust in him being able to bring those traits to the table once again?
...
Lu Tze sighed, set down his tea, and looked to the sky. "This is going to end in fire, isn't it?"
The sky did not answer.
Quick omake.
In the movie, that thing kept Dave distracted long enough to pose a problem, so here's some hammed up assistance.
Sorcerer's Apprentice, final battle, now with assistance.
Bowling Green
New York
2009
"Now!" Dave sent as the massive metal bull came alive, racing towards him and coring the car he hid behind.
# # #
Grassy plains
Some other plane
"Now!"
The word pierced the silence, and Khamsin threw his head back, screaming his challenge as he pierced the walls between worlds, Alex casting on his back as he lowered his visor.
# # #
Suddenly, a bugle from nowhere blew cavalry charge. At the same time, horse and rider phased into existence in a fog, countless runes and lines of power lighting up on full plate, shield, horse skin and barding, the massive stallion facing the animated metal statue at once, screaming his challenge anew.
"Cavalry charge?! Really, Alex?!" Briar screamed over the bugle from inside the armor's little familiar pouch.
"West coast boy, sue me." He formed a lance of power, saluting Dave as Khamsin and metal bull faced each other. "You guys care about hat guy, we'll keep that piece of scrap metal busy!"
As Khamsin exploded forwards, rider crouching physically impossible lance in hand, Alex began to disspell the beast's animation .
A minute later, even more horses showed up in a flash of light, riders drawing their weapons, while Ambrose just grinned. "What, boy? You really think you can pull out the whole war load at moment's notice and NOT have us show up?"
His gaze fell on the assembled combatants who had just stopped to stare at him. "Well." He sighed. "This is awkward."
It is time for a mini omake!
As you sit by thinking on whether to open and read on of the books or pass, a small black bound tome flies off the shelf into your relatively small hand and opens by itself.
A chilling aura of necromancy waffs of the book as the whispering grows louder and a spectral figure starts to loom over you as an unnatural fear starts to settle in the depths of you heart
A red angry eye opens as the boar senses the intruder and before the spectral figure's view, the towering form of the dark beast now looms over it and with a mighty roar that shows off the very large, very huge, and very hungry mouth full of teeth, the boar challenges the spirit.
The book shuts close all of a sudden and flees from your hands into the safety of the bookshelf and seems to shiver in fear as the other books all become quite.
"huh..not what i was expecting." A clearly stunned Balthazar says as everyone else just stares at you.
Omake: Familiars, Bonding
Briar's house
Living Room
Sitting on stools – chairs would only have interfered with the wings –, in front of a table big enough for ten fairies, Briar and Vert were eating ice crème with strawberry chunks and drinking milk from their proportionally correct dishes, an enchanted bowl to refill from standing to the side with a bottle of milk, exchanging stories about their respective partners.
"This place is really nice." Vert said, pointing around him with a ghostly spoon. "It's not nature, but here in Sunnydale? Yeah, better than anything outside. If I weren't dead and all I'd want one of those on my own."
"Absolutely, yes." Briar beamed. "I love it. And so do my friends. Even better, Alex is learning a new spell to make a house demiplane where he can make floor plans however he wants, and I got him to make one small slice he has no use for into a fairy house. A cupboard for him, a high rise for us."
"A fairy high rise? A weird idea."
"Weird, but awesome." She grinned. "It'll be magic and away from here, and once you got a shower small enough to actually use, you never look back."
"True enough, I guess." He smiled. "How long do you think we can stay here before we need to go back?"
"Alex and Koron are still talking through big people stuff." She sighed and Vert nodded, feeling the same from his own partner. "That said I'm getting tired. Do you need to sleep?"
"Not really, but I won't keep you up if you need to. I'll just go fly to Koron then."
"That would be awkward." She shook her head before pinning some hair back into her ponytail. "You know there's spare bedrooms. You could also store some things in one if you want to make sure they're not being stepped on outside."
"Thanks for the offer, if you really don't mind…?"
"You're dead." She smiled. "Just don't go all Poltergeist on me and we're fine. I'll crash now." She went out of the living room, then stopped in the door frame. "Actually…"
"Yes?" Vert asked.
"If you stay longer, there's a party here day after tomorrow. You're invited"
"A... party?" He was clearly intrigued.
"Some of my local fairy friends come over for the evening, some chatting, human-provided food, me trading stories about how I see the world when Alex makes me human-sized, the others bringing gifts of food from other worlds in exchange for being allowed to stay in one of the guest rooms overnight…" She smiled. "Talk about that planting project and you'll be the hit. It will also go a long way to help getting the girls around to introducing themselves to Alex after the whole debacle with his creepy uncle."
"And a dead fairy isn't creepy?"
She chuckled. "Just talk about plants, play with us, enjoy the ghost food, act like you're alive, maybe mention that other project your partner wanted as payment…" her chuckle morphed into a grin. "You'll be a hit."
"Sure, go tell me how to be a hit on a mostly female party when I'm dead." Vert grumbled playfully.
"More comments like that and I reconsider allowing you in my house after visiting hours, mister." Briar winked at him. "I have a Snappy!"
He stepped back, faking being scared as she giggled.
"Nah, if you show up a bit early and help set everything up, that'll make you even more interesting. Prim will forget you're dead after five minutes, the airhead, but I don't think that's the kind of company you prefer anyway."
"Sounds like a good audience for Koron stories, but as I said." He shrugged. "I'm dead, and I also never became a great fairy. So…"
"…yeah." She nodded. "For actually substantial stuff, you'll have a good time talking with Violet and Iris. About that planting project, if nothing else."
"Part of me is still annoyed at him calling it 'Seeds of the Future', but they're both so childish…" Vert sighed before saying thoughtfully. "Think we can still get your partner to go for 'Helping the little Ones' as well?"
"He's my partner." She turned serious again. "That means he's a good guy. Besides, he needs those crystals to pay Batreaux teaching him magic, so it's a win for everyone involved. And I want my friends to meet him. And" She raised her eyebrows. "He's going around telling people about fairy familiars, so the least he can do to make our sisters allow that is act on that Big Brother reputation he got. He also has a weakness to puppy dog eyes from little sisters, which" She grinned "is a serious weakness for a big fairy brother."
Vert laughed. "I can see that, but isn't that weakness just going to rope you into even more pointless adventures?"
"Honestly, I'd be happy if he spent more time solving fairy-sized problems than stuff like fighting Dracula, but unfortunately fairy-sized problems also are fairy-sized threats and…"
"…he wouldn't be worthy if he would run away from chosen-sized problems. Absolutely."
Both of them sighed in unison before Vert switched track. "You showed him the house from our perspective already?"
"And his little sister, yes." She smiled happily. "Squirt was shrunk to a size smaller than me!"
"Enjoy it while it lasts." Vert sighed. "Think you could invite Koron to the party as well? He'd be even more helpful in selling his plans…"
"Can he shrink?" Briar asked thoughtfully.
"He's dead. His physical appearance is easier to change than one involving a proper body." Vert shrugged.
"Point. I'll think about it. Now, good night."
"Good night." He shook his head as he lay down face first on the couch, enjoying the comfy resting place.
# # #
Back in the mirror dimension, Koron and Alex looked at their respective bonds, then at each other, and smiled.
"Seems they're bonding." Alex stated.
"Looks that way, yes." Koron nodded.
# # #
As for the fairy high rise, these 10ft cubes leave a lot of partial square meters unused after being converted, and even just 0.25m² (50cmx50cm) would go a LONG way to create fairy housing.
Or just unused parts in the ceiling.
TWO THOUSAND POSTS OMAKE SPECIAL PART #3
AKASHA BLOODRIVER
The land had changed.
It was only to be expected, Akasha knew. It had been five centuries since she'd last visited her homeland, give or take a few decades, and for all that time, the elements of nature had continued to do as they always did. The winds had blown, the rain and snow had fallen and the rivers run, the plants and animals went on being born to live and die and decay and leave new lives in their wake. Even the ancient stones of the mountains had kept on going about the business of life, in their own long, slow manner.
Like all those who carried fond memories of childhood in their hearts, Akasha had but to close her eyes to remember those long-gone days, a time when a great forest had covered this land, a sea of dark trees where one could walk for days on end without seeing the sky. All manner of creatures had called it home, from the humblest beasts of earth and sky to a small, common-born, but still proud family of vampires, who had walked in the day here as they could in no other land, with the trees as their shield against the too-bright gaze of the sun and the will of their lord as their ward against the enmity of men.
The only "islands" of the arboreal ocean were the scattered mountain peaks, a single cold, clear lake with its attendant, swift-flowing rivers, and a handful of often-overcast clearings, wherein lay the villages of those humans brave or desperate or simply stubborn enough to make their homes amidst the murky, monster-haunted woods - the bravest of all, with monsters as neighbors or even as kin, sheltering under the same roof - all in the looming shadow of the castle that stood atop the highest and most jagged outcropping.
But like all those who lived long enough, Akasha was forced to confront the fact that her cherished memories were no longer reflected in the waking world. No matter how much she might have wished it to be otherwise, and regardless of all the power that was hers as a Dark Lord, the beloved places of her youth were gone, swept away by the course the world had taken.
She had to come to terms with the truth, that no matter how much she might have wished it to be otherwise, the beloved places of her youth had not gone on existing alongside her, and all the power that was hers as a Dark Lord could not bring those places back to her.
Just as another Dark Lord's power had not been able to save them in the first place.
The proud, primeval forest was long gone, reduced to a handful of gnarled ancients and stunted, scraggly saplings that somehow clung to life when surrounded by bare earth, cold stone, and the bitter tang of bloody darkness that had long ago sunk into it all. The lake and rivers were diminished to little more than a brackish pond at the base of a murky valley, fed by a single sluggish stream. Even the mountains were not as they had been, stripped of their living garments of tree and bush and so bared to the cruel caress of erosion. One precipice in particular had not so much been weathered as it had been ripped from its mother peak - but that was a most recent development.
As for the villages, with their cozy eaves and the cobblestone streets where Akasha had played as a girl, nothing at all remained but for black, lifeless patches where treachery and violence were wrought, blood had been shed, and fires had burned. No work of wood or thatch had survived that terrible handful of days and nights, and no two stones had been left standing together in their wake. Nor had Nature been allowed to reclaim the ruins, for here, at least, a Dark Lord's will held sway, keeping forever fresh the memory of what had happened here.
Though even that might change, now that the Lord was truly gone.
It was not to any of the long-dead villages that Akasha ventured, but to a spot in what had been the woods. No tree yet stood to mark the path she followed, and the shape of the ground was entirely changed, making getting her bearings by it similarly impossible, but that hardly mattered when she had no memory of the way she'd taken so long ago, that day she'd fled fire and spears and screaming.
Not that the lack of memory mattered, either. She knew where she was going. She could be blind, crippled, and bound by holy seals, and still, she would have felt the pull that led her on, bringing her at last to an unremarkable patch of soil in the midst of the desolation.
A place where a single flower grew alone, its scant leaves and slender stem a green so deep and dark as to appear almost black, seeming to struggle to hold up a heavy, bowed blossom of rich, pure red.
Akasha stared down at the exquisite little thing for a time, before sighing and sinking to her knees next to it, mindful not to smother the fragile bloom in her skirts. Slowly, she reached out to cup the low-hanging petals with one hand. The motion disturbed the pollen within, and her heightened senses had no trouble picking up on the faint, sweet scent that was released into the air. More than that, Akasha could detect the dark force bound up in the flower's very being, a unique and oh-so-familiar essence that held both youki and magic, and was also slightly more.
To other beings, it would have been a mark of danger.
To Akasha Bloodriver, it smelled like loss and regret.
She sat there in silence for a time, before the sound of deliberately-loud footsteps and the approach of a carefully-obvious aura drew her attention.
"Adrian," Akasha acknowledged.
"My apologies if I am disturbing you, Akasha," the silver-haired, ageless-looking man in the dark suit said softly.
She shook her head. "You aren't. I was just..." She trailed off, gesturing at the flower.
Adrian regarded it, and her, with a mild frown of mystification. Then something clicked, and he looked at their surroundings, paying particular attention to the shattered outcropping just a few miles off. He seemed to be measuring the distance between their location and that broken crag.
"This is where he found you."
It had not been a question, but Akasha nodded anyway. "Where he saved me. I hadn't realized that he'd... marked it, like this."
"Nor had I," Adrian admitted. "Though in hindsight, it makes sense. Father always did have trouble letting go of what he loved."
Akasha fidgeted. "Even after I fought him?"
"Akasha, please. I fought him directly four times, all but one of which ended with his death - once with my own hand delivering the deathblow. He still called me his son and wished me well. Had I wanted to come back, he would have welcomed me with open arms and not a second thought."
"You were his son," Akasha began.
"And you were his treasure," Adrian returned. "The life that he arrived in time to save, when he'd been too late to rescue my mother, or so many of our people that had trusted in him. The child of his blood that stood by him and supported him, when I'd rejected him. The vampire innocent enough that even a Belmont stayed his hand."
At this, Akasha scowled, hugging herself against memories of what had, until recently, been her one and only personal contact with the legendary clan of hunters.
"How you were able to tolerate traveling with that man, I've never understood."
"Trevor was... an acquired taste," the dhampir admitted with a fond, reminiscent smile. "But he had a good heart, underneath the perpetual scowl, terrible manners, and casual profanity." The smile faded. "And the habitual drunkenness." And now it fell into a scowl. "And his appalling lack of proper hygiene..."
Akasha shook her head. "Well, thankfully, young Julius doesn't share in his ancestor's failings." She paused, and added, "How is he doing?"
"Better, after the... assistance your young friend provided. He's merely asleep now, rather than comatose, and Charlotte says the spiritual shock from giving up the Vampire Killer and breaking the Belmont family oath has passed. There's still some damage, but there's a chance Julius will be able to recover from it given enough time, rather than having to deal with a chronic condition."
The Dark Lord's expression turned intent. "Will he be able to hunt again?"
"Had you asked that question after the battle," Adrian replied after a moment's pause, "I would have said no. Julius's condition at the time was too uncertain. As it stands now... it is possible. He might lack the Whip, but he remains a Belmont, and one who has slain Dracula, at that."
"Good," Akasha said firmly. "I prefer the prospect of having to deal with a powerful Belmont who's demonstrated himself capable of dealing with monsters without resorting to violence, to that of a weaker one who considers us all enemies to be hunted down."
Adrian nodded, understanding her point.
Though they were descended from a noble bloodline that went back a full thousand years and more, the Belmont Clan no longer claimed any special right of rulership over their fellow man. Their role, as the hunters of the night, was now the service and protection of humanity and the world they lived in.
That said, the Belmont name commanded great influence in supernatural circles, and the actions of those who bore it had a far-reaching impact, particularly after a member of the clan had once again returned the Prince of Darkness to his unquiet grave.
A Belmont known to be strong enough to defeat Dracula, and yet willing to work alongside monsters - no less than the Lady of Blood herself - to achieve that goal, was a valuable prospect. His example would demonstrate that humans were strong enough to stand against monsters, yet also brave enough to stand alongside them where common cause existed.
Indeed, while conservatives and extremists among humans and monsters alike would claim that no such cause existed or could ever exist, that Man and Monster must and only ever could kill one another, the actions of the only two Belmonts Akasha had ever met proved them wrong.
Some still would walk the path of mutual contempt, of course, and Julius was undoubtedly in for a few challenges from zealots who saw him as either a traitor or a deadly threat to their beliefs. But others would heed the unspoken message, and at least consider following his example. That was all Adrian could ask.
It was, in the end, all that his mother had wanted.
...well. Not quite all, he silently admitted, looking at Akasha - and in memory, at the bright-eyed, endlessly cheerful and optimistic girl that she'd once been.
Like most mothers, Lisa Tepes had wanted grandchildren, and there'd been a time when Akasha had been the young lady most likely to end up providing them. That time was long since past, of course, and Adrian did not doubt that his mother's soul had smiled down on the brave, bold huntress he'd taken as his wife so many years later, but Lisa had approved of Akasha as a potential future daughter-in-law all the same.
And then his father had shared his blood with Akasha to save her life. By the old ways, she was Dracula's daughter as much as she was the child of her own lost parents. And Moka, then...
"Adrian," Akasha spoke up, interrupting his thoughts, "I can hear you plotting."
Not denying the accusation, he answered, "It had occurred to me that I never asked if you wished to see Mother's grave."
Akasha blinked in honest surprise. "I wasn't aware that she had one. I thought... I mean..." She winced.
Adrian nodded, understanding her hesitance to speak of the subject. Fortunately, he'd long since come to terms with his loss.
"Father tasked Death with recovering Mother's ashes when Targoviste was destroyed," he explained. "He returned them to her family's burial plot, at Lupu, and built a crypt there to protect them from further desecration. I made my own retreat not far away, those years when I tried to seal myself away from the world, and I've watched over it since. If you would care to visit...?"
Akasha considered that, and finally nodded. "I think I would like that, Adrian. Thank you."
He extended a gentlemanly hand. "Shall we, then?"
Wordlessly, Akasha accepted the unnecessary assistance, once again minding the fall of her skirts to avoid harming the tiny flower.
"Would you like anything done with it?" Adrian asked, glancing sidelong at the dark, delicate blossom as Akasha dusted off her dress.
"Part of me wants to take it home with me," Akasha admitted. "Something to hold on to, as a last reminder of him." She sighed. "But that's the mistake he made, isn't it? Holding on too hard to the memory of what he'd lost."
"That and failing to have a better handle on his temper or sense of retribution," Adrian noted dryly, "but I take your meaning." He backed away a few steps, and bowed. "I'll give you some privacy."
Akasha curtseyed gracefully, and then watched in silence as Adrian withdrew, before turning her attention back to the lone flower and the surrounding environment. She stood like that for a long time, thinking again of all those long-vanished places, the people who had called them home, and the happy days of her vanished youth. And she remembered, too, the proud, powerful man who'd ruled over it all, and of the kindness he'd never failed to show her, even as grief, rage, and hatred were consuming him.
She thought of the larger-than-life figure that she'd faced in the heart of the Demon Castle, just days before, and how he'd sent his elite guard to face her, watching her destroy them one by one with the same fierce, loving pride that Issa showed whenever one of their daughters overcame a new challenge.
She saw again the wonder and delight in the face of Dracula's gigantic demonic form, as she unleashed her own full power against him, and heard once more his final words to her - not a curse or condemnation from the vanquished to the victor, as many would have believed, but a last benediction from a master to his student, or a father's final blessing upon his daughter.
"Goodbye, my lord," Akasha murmured. "Rest well."
Then she turned and left that place.
Omake: Driving Dad(s) to Drink
As the children were playing a game, Shuzen Issa approached Alexander's father, sake in hand.
"Mr. Harris." The host greeted him in English while offering him a glass. "Do you have a few minutes for me?"
"Sure?" Tony took the drink with a smile as he curiously followed the other.
Both men sat down at a corner table, watching the children as they drank before Issa began. "I am not sure of how much you are aware from the events on the birthday party and your son's actions as a whole. I am sure there is some things you need or want to know which he simply cannot understand yet. For starters, you surely have noticed how he is surrounding himself with girls his age."
"Of course." Tony nodded. "I was a bit worried at first, but it seems to work out well, alleviating my concerns."
"You may have to change your concerns a bit." Issa stated carefully. "There… was an incident last time, one I would have serious words with your son for if he was a teenager."
"…if he was a teenager? What, exactly, did he do?"
Issa sighed. "In conservative circles, the gift he gave her for her birthday could he considered courting my daughter."
Tony was confused. "I admit I am not proficient in the rules of the Moonlit World, but giving a girl combat gloves counts as courting her?"
"It's not so much the gloves as the material." Issa replied. "Material taken from a defeated foe and forged into a gift, to be exact. In some circles, it's considered the height of romance."
"Granted, that I can see." Tony answered slowly. "But... the boy is eight."
"And he didn't have the slightest clue what he was doing, yes. Which are the only reasons I didn't plan revenge."
"Good decision." Tony replied evenly, looking the Vampire in the eyes. "You may play so many leagues above us it's not even the same game anymore, but that doesn't mean you can push us around however you like. Especially not just because your little girl is growing up."
Issa raised his glass in salute. "I don't think you'd stand a chance, but I respect the sentiment."
"All I can reasonably expect. I take it the gift was well received, then?"
"Kahlua was absolutely smitten by it, and even her younger sisters were truly impressed." Issa took a sip from his sake and shook his head. "Add to that that he danced with Kahlua while flying, spent much time with the Drake's daughter, had the niece of one of my staffers 'going full fangirl' as I think you would say over his World Tournament victory and managed to make Akasha pause during at least one occurrence... As much as someone his age actually can do so, he showed martial and magical strength, intelligence, manners and gentlemanly behavior. All while growing up on the most dangerous place on the planet, something some denizens of the Moonlit World consider a major show of strength all on its own. With all that, Akasha, Gyokuro and I… Honestly. I am not sure who should be more worried: You or fathers of daughters roughly in his age bracket."
Tony's smile broadened. "So you are saying my son is a natural. Shouldn't I be proud about my son being… not a player or Casanova, no, more like… this successful on the prowl without even trying? I guess I have to teach the boy a few lessons about hurting people on accident, granted, but other than that…?"
"That depends, Mr. Harris," Issa answered slowly. "I admit feeling a certain pride about one's children being proficient hunters is justified, even outside of the things normal people would call a hunt. That said, he seems to have a thing for the headstrong type, and I can only confirm the arrangement I live in has little commonality with what a teenager would imagine. It also involves quite a few families joined together via yours, and no little amount of potential family drama. Add in your point of residence, and, well..."
"Point taken." Tony sighed. "I really hoped I'd have one or two years more until the talk, but I guess it's even more important and needs some additions now. And make sure the boy can actually provide for everyone he manages to get some way."
"Rest assured, Mr. Harris with Ms. Chase, Ms. Drake and Kahlua, there will be little need for your son to actually provide for everything himself."
"Assuming this is a group he forms, or one that includes even only one of them, I am sure he could live on something provided by the families. That said, his mother and I raised him to stand on his own two feet, not on handouts. However well-meaning they may be."
"I can respect that." Issa nodded. "That said, most respected ways to make money fit for someone marrying into an old Moonlit family involve martial and/or magical skills."
"Our family's ways mostly revolve around service to the state or work with our own two hands." Tony replied. "It may be pedestrian, but none of us never got in contact with this kind of world, and my son better not decide getting his hands dirty to put food on the table and a roof over the head is below him just because he has some power. I freely admit I am not someone aiming for a big career, but my work ethic still involved night shifts in Sunnydale. I'm glad he can avoid that sort of danger, but he has to be willing to properly provide."
"Service to the state, or your lord, is also an accepted way, yes. Still, it strongly depends on the level he serves on."
"Important people aren't minor clerks, sure." Tony nodded.
Then they watched the children again, thinking about the future with different amounts of dread.
Omake: Admin Rights
After a ton of glomping and cuddling, Alex leaned down to the spirit. "Listen up, boy. I'm not going to stay here forever," the spirit seemed more than unhappy about this "BUT I'm coming back often. In the meantime, I want you to do something. Last time I was here, some mean guy breached the defenses without people noticing. If someone the Shuzens or I don't allow in wants to force his way in here, tell them. Can you do that?"
The spirit nodded eagerly and Alex continued. "You can also beat him up for the attempt if you feel like it, but also tell it."
Omake: The Alex Threshold
Catherine Madison was worried. Neither the maternal standard worry, nor the Sunnydale standard. She was deeply, utterly worried.
She had always known Amy had trained with Alex, and thought little of it besides being glad her daughter got an early start.
Boy had she been wrong.
The first sign had been costumes from conjured cloth. Permanently conjured cloth. This was enough to show how outclassed she was.
It was enough, but not all by far as she had learned when visiting the boy's home. Thinking little of it besides visiting a high school classmate's child friends with her daughter, she had underestimated him again.
His aura shone like a sun, dark power oozing from every part of his soul, a chain inscribed with the words 'bugger off' wrapped around it. Golden veins of power ran through the dark, his ki alive in ways unusual on the Hellmouth while fae energy pulsated with his heartbeat, hints of a big handsome man imprinted into the background…
She almost ran right there, finding Alexander a powerhouse beyond her imagination.
A small part of her screaming deference to the child prodigy and his untapped might.
His innocence had been enough to keep her back, and she valued it, for she had found her assumptions wrong once again.
Untapped power? If only.
The house was the next shock.
Yes, it was rather new, but it still existed long enough to be corrupted. But no, nothing like it. It was not clean by any standard an outsider would use, but for Sunnydale?
Questioning found this to be a granted favor.
Catherine had no idea who could do such a thing, but the idea young Alex could get a favor out of such a person... she shuddered.
If there was one thing more important in magical society than personal power, it was connections. Here she found herself outclassed once again. Part of her had doubted his tale of him knowing the Shuzens, but now…
Soon after, she received the next blow to her assumptions.
Her shocked attempt to make sure he did not kill them all in a child's overconfident attempt to show off his skills ended in her learning from him as she had found her magical knowledge outclassed in one more school of magic. By now, she suspected it would not be the last.
Part of her was ashamed, to find her studies being inadequate compared to the knowledge of a child that had not even been planned when she began them.
When they had actually teleported to Japan, a feat unthinkable to her not too long ago, their group breached a lower layer of the astral, a curious voice babbling to them…
After arrival, they found out about cleaning rites better than her own. The cleaning had changed her whole outlook on everything.
The series of shocks had not even been close to being finished.
Entering the demiplane their hosts lived in – by now, she readily accepted she was not playing in young Alex's league anymore - , the boy had been as shocked as her to learn he had triggered the creation of its kami.
What had shocked her even more was how… resigned those knowing him were about his feats. Like they were a common occurrence.
She shuddered deeply. What power, in a child.
Now, they stood in front of one the three Dark Lords of the Orient, just because her oldest daughter had invited Alex to a Halloween party.
His connections proved to be what he said, making people tread lightly. Making her tread lightly and make sure not to end up on his wrong side.
Catherine pitied whoever tried to mess with young Alexander, for his demise would definitely be painful. And once he was an adult…
She had thought the boy a kid, now she learned he was playing in a league above her in everything that counted. A thought came to the forefront. It had begun when she saw the cloth, but before now, there had been no strength behind it.
'The priorities are clear…' She gulped. 'Amy may… need to spend less time cheerleading…" large parts of her mind screamed heresy at the invader, but one look at the genius loci hiding behind his leg silenced them for now… 'and more time with him. She needs to be among his best friends. We need the connection, and in a few years, who knows…?'
Her eyes fell to the inviting blonde girl. If not for the duel of stared daggers she was holding with Cordelia Chase – interesting, that - she was pretty, that was for sure, and would probably develop well if Lady Bloodriver was any indication. Something else to help Amy with, she guessed.
Whatever happened in Sunnydale, now she knew young Alexander's protection and teaching would be of immeasurable help. It hurt, but the knowledge was worth it.
And if she then managed to protect her house the way his was…
She stepped forward, bowing. "Thank you for having my daughter and me, Lady Bloodriver."
"I trust young Alexander to pick his friends wisely." Akasha smiled. "Welcome to castle Shuzen, Ms. Madison. Amy."
Looking to Amy, Akasha was measuring her the same way she had been Kahlua. Then she looked at Catherine with a small smile.
A quiet sound in the background drew both women's eyes to Lily Blaisdell, while also breaking Kahlua's staring duel with Cordelia.
The Blaisdell grandmother did not look amused, her face resting in a way that clearly said 'Stop bitching and get on with it, girls.'
Lu Tze and Mr. Harris, meanwhile, did their best to stay out of it. Wise decision.
Akasha's smile grew and Catherine quickly took out her gift to the hosts. Time to get this over with. "So do I, and here is…"
There would be time to change Amy's schedule one they were at home. And her own, of course. She needed to cram in learning from the b… Alexander, after all. She just hoped she could afford his training.
Soon after the children ran off to play, leaving the adults in the main hall.
"We prepared something in the dining room, if you would please follow me?" Akasha pointed to a door before making over to Mr. Harris.
"I'm afraid my husband will only arrive later, but he is looking forward to getting to know you, Mr. Harris. As is Kahlua's mother, Shuzen Gyokuro."
Now, wasn't that interesting… It even made her miss Tony's answer.
Omake: Girl Talk
After the kids had run off, Akasha took Catherine aside, looking at her with a predator's glare as she lent her arm at the wall next to her and began with a sweet voice oozing age and wisdom.
"We couldn't avoid noticing how you looked at our husband, Cathy." Her smile remained friendly the whole time, still giving an impression of 'listen up, food.'. "And only at him. Am I to understand you think he's the only one responsible and we lack the agency to have anything to do with it?"
Caught completely flat-footed, Catherine Madison couldn't answer coherently, only quickly shake her head.
"Good." Akasha nodded. "There's times and places where calling us helpless damsels is okay, but that always involves everyone involved having fun. And you certainly may not do so. So" She took a step back. "Keep your opinion on what consenting adults do for yourself, child. Ideally fix it, for you won't escape that kind of thing around Alex, as we both now. Now excuse me, I need to talk to the maids."
With that, she turned around and left.
Omake: Ganondorf's Return
Zelda silently cursed as she rode. After twenty years of peace and quiet, she steps one foot outside the Castle, and there is word that He was back. As she reached the gates, she surveyed the damage:
Gate broken? Check.
Gardens destroyed? Freshly plowed. Check.
Roof on fire? The bucket brigade had it under control, barely. She called rain to help them out.
Castle door? Off the hinges. Check.
Portcullis forced open? She blinked. Ripped out of the wall. Check.
Furious, she stormed through her home. The palace looked like a tornado had passed through ahead of her. Then, she heard voices. Link's voice. In the parlour. Her parlour.
She kicked open the door.
There, sprawled out in a chair, was Link. Covered in mud, sporting a black eye, and his arm in a sling. The couch opposite sagged under a huge man. His nose was freshly broken, and he was missing a tooth. There were even arrows sticking out of him. And he was laughing. Laughing.
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!" she roared.
"Oh, hey Zel! When did you get back?"
"Don't you 'Zel' me, Alexander Harris. What have I told you two about drinking in the house? It isn't even 10:00!"
FIFTH ANNIVERSARY OMAKE SPECIAL PART #1
MOTHER BRAIN
The images hung in the air before her, three-dimensional projections of laser-light illuminating an otherwise invisible gaseous medium, held in suspension within a tank of crystalline material that resembled glass, but was of a decidedly different chemical composition.
To the right, glowing in pale, inoffensive blue, was a depiction of the theoretical "average" human brain, derived from a comparative analysis of hundreds of source images that ranged from pictures in medical textbooks, to MRIs, to data acquired via... more esoteric methods. The luminous image currently reflected only the physical structure of the brain, but with the press of a button, it could accurately depict the electrochemical processes associated with any number of physical actions, emotional responses, or intellectual diversions.
Acquiring all of the data that went into this model had taken a considerable amount of time and effort. Accuracy needed to be ensured, the limitations of the various methods of recording accounted for, and a few minor ethical violations committed - and more pressingly, covered up - along the way. Converting everything into a unified, computerized format had likewise been a non-trivial affair, though that was mostly because she'd had to build a machine capable of running the code she'd envisioned, and then actually write the code, all by her herself.
And for all of the time and effort that had gone into creating the image on the right, it was the one on the left that had truly been the hardest to assemble. It, too, was the image of a brain, one that was basically human in design, but with many tiny differences. Nothing on the level of an extra lobe, but when contrasted with the image of a human-normal brain, this mass of grey matter was clearly more developed in certain areas, and less so in others. There were also odd mineral buildups, beginning along the top of the frontal lobe and leading back into the parietal, almost like tiny, blunted spikes.
Every time she looked at those deposits, the top of her head would itch, almost as if she could feel them pressing against the interior of her skull.
The floating image of this, her decidedly non-standard brain, glowed the same shade of blue as its counterpart in all the places where they were alike, within a given, mathematically-acceptable degree of similarity. Where differences were present, the color shifted to green, or, in the case of those mineral spokes, yellow.
She'd earmarked the color orange for places of active concern, and red for danger. It was a relief that nothing had turned up beyond the "potential concern" yellow level, and that, only in those annoying spikes.
As with its counterpart, this hologram did not simply display physical structure. It, too, had been programmed with the patterns of neural activity associated with a wide range of physical, emotional, and mental actions, but its data covered an area of activity that was not present in the "normal" human brain, this being how the brain acted while certain psychic powers were being employed.
THAT was the part that had made acquiring a complete model of her brain so difficult. Conventional technology wasn't set up to detect the energies involved in psionics, and there had always been the concern that she'd miss out on critical data if she stuck with MRIs and CAT scans. Nor could she rely on her mental powers to scan her own brain; yes, she had the technical skill required, but the very act of running such a scan produced its own specific neural and psychic activity, making it impossible to obtain images of her brain while psychically at rest.
She'd needed an impartial means of acquiring that data, and none existed that she was aware of. So she'd built it herself. And while it had, again, been a time-, effort-, and resource-intensive affair, it was finally done. She had her scanners, her database, and the information provided by the former had been compiled and assessed by the latter, giving her the answers she'd sought.
She could now explain what her brain was doing when she read someone else's mind, or telekinetically lifted an object, or peered out into the mists of space and time with her clairvoyance. She could describe how it worked, the physical mechanisms in play, and what toll they did or didn't take on her system - and that was a great relief in its own right.
She'd had far too many headaches over the years, to say nothing of the spontaneous nosebleeds, bouts of intense nausea, or the one-and-only time she'd had to push her abilities so hard that she blacked out from the backlash. There had always been that fear that her abilities were damaging her in some way, that every use of even the most minor ability was stressing or destroying neural cells that had never been designed to cope with such powers, but now she had proof that the latter, at least, was not happening.
Her brain might be unusual, but as far as she could tell, it was healthy.
The trick would be keeping it that way.
OOC: At less than half or even a third the size of the 2000 Posts Specials, I'm still not 100% satisfied with this one, but it's months overdue, I've rewritten it from scratch twice, and my muse is refusing to say anything more right now.
So, with Alex's birthday coming up, I ended up doing another archive binge, and was reminded of the Shuzen family's reaction to Alex (who they knew was poor, and eight) creating a gift out of the body parts of one of his defeated foes. I felt like that was exactly the kind of thing that would set off their competitive natures, given both their pride as monsters, and as old money/Dark lords.
Alex's Birthday Party:
A pile of discarded wrapping paper, boxes, and opened presents surrounded Alex. Hesitantly, he picked up the last box, clearly labeled in a flowery script "From Kahlua." Opening the box, he he discovered a blanket made of white hair that seemed to radiate a feeling of "pureness" to his mystical senses. He looked up, meeting Kahlua's eyes with a quizzical expression.
"It's made from real unicorn hair. Sleeping under it should speed up healing, and slowly remove corruption." she said, answering his unspoken question.
He felt an set of conflicting emotions rise up "Kahlua...did you kill a unicorn to make me a present?"
She smiled toothily "Of course not! Killing the unicorn would taint the hairs' mystical properties, ruining it for this type of item." She added, in a nonchalant tone that was clearly deliberate "I had to shave it while it was still alive."
Alex looked down at the blanket, and resolved both the never tell Zelda about this. He'd have to work extra hard for next years present.
Off to the side, Altria stared fixedly at her gift of a a nice (but mundane) saddle. Alex had a sinking feeling he had started a gift arms race with last years present to the vampire princess.
PS: I doubt she'll show up with a magic item, but I wouldn't be surprised if she tries to top Alex's kill with her own. Showing up with a gift made from a stronger monster (E.g; Griffon bone necklace?), or something she had to take off a monster while it was still alive (unicorn hair) struck me as entertaining.
Alex: "I am getting some hefty Gerudo flash backs here."
Rin: "Who?"
PLE gained
Alex: "Nobody that matters. Say, this might be early puberty coming in, but has anybody told you that you look rather cute when you are angry and menacing? Because I have a feeling guys are going to be riling you up for kicks and giggles in the future."
Elsewhere
Archer: "Damned right I am."
Counter-force: "What?"
Archer: "Nothing, just felt like saying that out of nowhere. Time to...sigh, get back to ruthlessly wiping out whole groups of people."
Terrorists with access to Israeli nukes get arrow sniped.
Yet again, elsewhere
Shirou: "Asshole."
Shirou's mom: "SHIROU!"
Shirou: "I am sorry, but it needed to be said!"
Back again with Alex
Rin: "Damn ri-wait, no, why am I even sa...have you ever felt like you are the punchline of a long overused gag?"
Alex: "All the time."
"Why do the servants in your house look somewhat like you?" -Guest.
"They're actually modeled off of a Hyrulean race called the Gerudo." -Alex
"So why do you look like a Gerudo?" -Guest
"My postman thought I had Gerudo ancestry, but that may not be it." -Alex
"There were Gerudo on Earth?" -Guest
"Not to my knowledge." -Alex
"That's odd, especially given that your parents don't have darker skin. Could there be another reason?" -Guest
"It would also be reasonable to think its because I'm a chosen of Din, since the Gerudo people were her favorite. Small cosmetic changes because of magic aren't unusual. My ears and eyes changed a bit after my familiar ritual for example." -Alex
"Why would your sister have darker skin too then?" -Guest
"Maybe the awesome rubbed off on her? I don't know." -Alex
Tony Harris went over to Shuzen Issa, sixpack of beer in hand. The vampire patriarch was sitting in a tree's shadow, staring into the sea with a frown.
"Anything wrong with the party?" Tony handed over the beer, receiving first a confused look, then a somewhat forced smile. "Not with this one, no. And thank you."
Tony sat down, both drinking slowly before he continued the conversation. "Meaning?"
"I just dread the next few parties here." Issa sighed. "They grow up so fast."
"That they do." Tony sighed as well. "The island not to your liking?"
"Oh, no, it is very appropriate, and with the magic making us feel welcome here... Magic that obviously requires touching..."
"Ah." Tony chuckled. "I'd say it's probably not enough to make a bikini comfortable, but I fully trust my boy to solve that issue the moment he considers it a problem."
"You are not helping with my worries, Harris." Issa's frown deepened.
"You're going overprotective concerning my son." He shrugged. "I'm proud of him right now. And you can be concerning your daughter, I don't think there'll be issues besides the usual teenie drama. With a side dish of martial arts, of course."
"That's bad enough." Issa grumbled.
"How else can they grow...?"
"Point, but I reserve to say the same when it becomes an issue with your little girl.."
"Meh, she has a very protective big brother." Tony shrugged. "And her dates won't be in his league."
"...I need more beer." Issa conceded.
Tony just handed one over.
Sunnydale,
Summer 2007.
"Beach Day? Weird name for a spell." Kahlua raised her eyebrows. "What does it do?"
"First of all, it protects you from the sun far better than the one on my ninth birthday; I expanded it to provide glare protection and the ultimate suncream for UV and skin cancer issues for people without your vulnerabilities. Also protects from spray water and humidity while adding a half a meter radius insect repellant zone around you and keeps sand from getting everywhere." Alex was clearly proud of his work. "It even lasts from dawn to dusk."
"He shortly considered calling it the Baywatch spell." Briar snickered as both teenagers blushed crimson. "But then found adding motion effects would make it too powerful to suppress. And hurt him too much when you found out."
"...one for me, please." The young vampiress mumbled, then hastily adding. "One Beach Day, I mean. Range is still touch, isn't it?"
"Of course." Alex replied. "Helped to keep it suppressable."
Briar just laughed.
Alex sighed. Seriously, why didn't actual adult archmages create this thing already and leave it to a sixteen year old?! The laughing voice in his head telling him they'd simply grown up was silenced when he reminded him of Ambrose.
Then again, Ambrose probably simply didn't want to share it or waited for being asked embarassing questions like this. He'd better ask Altria if the old weirdo had somethign similar, just designed for humans.
His train of thought stopped abruptly when Kahlua offered him his hand for the spell. "Okay. But" She added with a grin that was somehow both mean and shy "I need to go shopping to blend in, wasn't exactly prepared for a beach trip when I came to California."
Briar landed on his shoulder to lean against his head, tiny fists drumming his neck as she let her amusement flow in response to what their bond told her.
FIFTH ANNIVERSARY OMAKE SPECIAL PART #2
MERLE AMBROSE
Consisting of ninety-four separate galleries with over eight hundred thousand square feet of collective floor space, housing a collection of some eight million works, and seeing over five million visitors annually, the British Museum is one of the largest, best-known, and most frequently-visited institutions of its kind in the world.
For all of that, there are parts of the Museum that the tourists never see, and that many even among its staff are not permitted to enter. It is not just a matter of high-security vaults for preserving especially sensitive artifacts, or the more general but still largely off-limits storage areas where items are placed when the decision is made to rotate them out in favor of other displays, or even the various side-passages and access routes whose usage is typically limited to security personnel and the custodial staff.
No, there are chambers at the Museum - entire levels, in fact, extending deep below ground and far out into the surrounding region like a modern take on the labyrinth - that the common man has no idea exists, and of which all but a handful of the official employees are deliberately kept ignorant.
Excepting, again, for security and the janitors.
If one stops to think about it, that really should not come as a surprise.
After all, guards need to know what kind of threats to expect, and how to deal with them, if they're going to stand any chance at being effective. And you always need someone to clean up the messes.
Lord knows, the average magus would never stoop to perform something so common as guard duty, much less sweep the floors.
"Four months," Ambrose muttered to himself, as he stalked one of the hidden halls of the sprawling, secret campus known as the Clock Tower. "It should not take four bloody months to arrange a meeting with a bunch of glorified filing clerks!"
Hardly anyone who knew the wizard would have recognized him at the moment, for necessity and the conventions of the Mages' Association had forced a change in wardrobe upon him. Far from his customary, tongue-in-cheek robes and wizarding hat, or one of his riotous informal outfits, the old spellcaster had reluctantly donned a dapper suit for this occasion - something modern, in a style that would only draw a second glance from those passersby with the eye and experience to realize just how much it must have cost.
Height of magus fashion or no, Ambrose flatly refused to be seen walking around dressed like a Victorian-era dandy, unless he was going to an appropriately-themed costume party. There were subtler and more tasteful ways to show off one's wealth and culture than prancing around like an overstuffed peacock, just as there were more elegant ways of expressing displeasure and refusal than the kind of petty bureaucratic dickery he'd had to deal with to put in his request for information about the Fuyuki Grail Wars.
The initial inquiry alone had taken most of three weeks to sort out, when it was something that any other institution of higher learning could have handled inside of a day. It was, after all, just a single trip to the lowest-security wing of the archives, to obtain a copy of information the Clock Tower had deemed acceptable to release into the public domain regarding the Grail War phenomenon.
Three blasted weeks, for the equivalent of walking to the public library and borrowing their photocopier for five minutes!
But of course, it couldn't be that easy. After all, no TRUE magus would lower himself to rooting through the unsecured records for such trivial data; that was what students and familiars were for. And for one with a reputation like himself to be seen doing it - the scandal! The outrage! The small-minded, self-aggrandizing protests that would have complicated the entire affair by a factor of at least three!
And also, Ambrose was forced to concede, the CURIOSITY.
After all, the Fourth Holy Grail War was five years over, and everyone knew that it would be half a century before even the preparations for the next War began. What possible reason could there be for a man of Merle Ambrose's standing to be seeking information on it now? Unless, that is, he already knew something the rest of them did not...?
So it was that, instead of simply going in and getting the information, Ambrose had been forced to arrange for someone else, seemingly entirely unconnected to him, to do so in his stead, and then pass their findings back to him through a chain of intermediaries, all the while ensuring the attention of all parties involved stayed minimal.
All that fuss, merely for the redacted files.
And even then, SOMEONE had still noticed, which resulted in his unwitting du- er, proxy having a rather abruptly-scheduled meeting with their faculty advisor, while an Enforcer listened in from the next room. Ambrose hadn't been able to listen in on that conversation directly - the Clock Tower's wards were good for SOME things, after all the centuries of collective work put into them - but from what he'd been able to reconstruct after the fact, the higher-ups in whatever little faction of the administration had taken issue with his pup- assistant's investigation didn't know who the boy had been passing notes to, or why. All they knew was that some party was curious about the Grail War, and knew enough of their internal organization to figure out how to get at it.
Their response had been to arrange for the information Ambrose really wanted to quietly disappear from the archives, or at least from those areas any paw- help he might acquire would have the clearance to access, thus forcing him to come in person. After jumping through all the unnecessarily-elaborate hoops that a proper magus would take, trying to get what he wanted by expected and acceptable means without humbling himself before his peers and simply asking for it directly, like a sane and reasonable human being.
But that was mages for you.
To the mind of the average magus, anyone not a member of their own family was, at best, a rival in the quest to reach the Root - some more or less worthy and thus respectable, based on their known power and skill, the age of their lineage, and the quality of achievements by either the individual or the whole, but still, rivals. At worst, you were not a person at all, but a person-shaped thing, either to be vaguely, distantly pitied for your ignorance of the truth of the world and brushed aside as inconsequential, or else to be honored by the opportunity to be exploited by your betters, should you possess some trait that could be of interest or service to them.
Ambrose idly wondered which of the self-deluding upstarts was going to try and kill him on this visit. Because no matter how spectacularly he'd destroyed his previous challengers, there was always another one with the right combination of arrogance, ignorance, and avarice to take a shot at securing his body and the secrets it held for their research - much good it would do them.
After all, Magecraft was not Wizardry, anymore than either of them were Sorcery, or the Miracles worked by the gods on behalf of their true faithful. The underlying mechanisms were different, the similarities in method existed solely because human beings only thought in so many different ways, and as for the associated philosophies-!
No, whichever "lucky" magus finally ended up with Ambrose's incapacitated form on his vivisection table was going to be mightily disappointed by what he found therein. No high-quality Magic Circuits or inhuman Magic Core to explain the power the old man had been seen to command. Elements that could not account for the breadth and depth of his publicly-known "Mysteries" - seriously, you pompous windbags, just call them spells already! - and an Origin that would leave them pulling their hair out in sheer frustration.
Or reeling in horror, if they knew him well enough to suspect the truth.
In a strange and morbid way, the old man was rather looking forward to it.
But the prospects of peri-mortem entertainment were just going to have to wait. Ambrose was still far too busy to die.
Delivered Amulet of Animal Speech to Kagome
"Best gift ever! Also he actually did make it to my birthday come to think of it."
Delivered Amulet of Magic Fangs to Tatsuki
"
Does he just like giving weapons? I suppose this will make it easier to punch holes in walls. If that ever comes up."
Delivered Amulet of Shadow-Stepping to Emiko
"
Alex gave me jewelry! I'll treasure this forever!"
Delivered Baconator Fork to Sokka
*Stares in awe*
Delivered Dragon's Breath Gauntlet to Altria
"T
his will probably work? Alex! You shouldn't give gifts if you aren't even sure they'll work!"
Delivered Gi of Resistance to Ichigo
"
To help you get hit less.. I would be insulted if I had pride in my fighting ability. Since I don't I suppose it's useful."
Delivered Glasses of Magic Detection to Moka
"Useful.."
Delivered Replenishing Quiver to Ichirou
*I
hope this doesn't mean he wants me to accompany him again.*
Delivered Sewing Kit of Mending to Katara
*saves me time*
Delivered Warrior-Princess Bracers to Kahlua
*Ha! He's giving me more than anyone else. That means I'm winning.. Something.*
Yeah, typed something like this out a while ago.
It had taken years to get to this point.
Sitting on top of Khamsin, Alex faced the Shuzen's realm, his eyes wandering over the matrix holding it together.
Back when Alex had still been eight years old, he had seen a necromancer breach the Shuzen's home security.
The adults had dealt with it, obviously, and he hadn't thought of it much over all the world-shaking events since then, but now he was a young man - you can stop laughing any time now, Ganon, and the boar doing so as well is just disloyal - of eighteen years that had studied Moonlit world dating rituals for obvious reasons.
Kahlua's 9th birthday gift didn't count, he had been young and stupid then - Ganon, do me a favor and die of that laughter attack -, but he now certainly understood the aura of doom he had felt at the time.
Then there had been Ambrose's words about kidnappings and thresholds. He had no idea how Shuzen-type vampires and thresholds interacted, but well.
Only one way to find out.
For the last year, he had pushed his powers more than ever, trying to grow stronger and stronger while completing Khamsin's training. It had been a major milestone on a long way
Over the last decade, he had spent a large amount of time and effort studying defensive magic, including the occasional input from the wards in front of him, the Memorian walls (which were still mostly eluding him), Ambrose's wards, the Drakes' home...
If some random shmuck necromancer could breach the plane, he sure as hell could at least give it a try to get himself another bride.
He obviously couldn't go hand to hand with the Shuzens, but that had never been the plan anyway.
Now young man and stallion stood outside their little home dimension, in mundane Japan, watching its patterns one last time.
"I go dive now." Briar commented from her place inside the suit pocket. "Make sure she doesn't punch the pocket out while I'm in."
But, more important than even the training, he had spent a lot of time with the little local kami, forming a bond with it.
So as his power touched the realm's boundary, he silently asked to be let in without the Shuzen's security noticing.
Within moments, a hole opened up in the defenses, letting him through as asked. Horse and rider were enveloped in a sheet of welcoming youki shot through with the power of the trace triforce, allowing them to ride towards the castle undetected.
Standing up and cleaning his suit – all the magic that went into it made it the equivalent of scifi armor while being as inconspicious as the better bodyguard suits - , Alexander Lavelle Harris attuned his aura to the plane before flicker-riding to the castle's vicinity.
He watched the grounds carefully before taking flight, creating a plane of air just in front and below Kahlua's window, setting down in front of it.
The young woman was asleep, blanket drawn up to her lovely face. Now it had to be fast, and quiet.
Dropping all magic, he confidently stepped through the window. He had received castle guest access long ago, and while no one really expected him to come in through the window, there had been no reason to pull those rights from him in case the kids wanted to go exploring by flight.
His feet quietly hit the ground and he walked to the bed, quickly and carefully pressing a hand to the young woman's lips.
She reacted immediately, going for her weapons before she stopped with a start at seeing him.
"Hi Darling." He whispered. "Time to move out."
[currently inappropriate innuendos about power skills]
"You are SO not in a position to make demands after all those comments, girl." Alex smiled, then knocked Kahlua out with a surgical application of power to bind and gag her carefully and place her on Khamsin's back.
Five minutes and several filled pocket dimensions and saddle bags of holding later, he carefully placed the business card he had prepared with a handwritten note on Kahlua's pillow.
Checking everything was fine, he jumped back on Khamsin, punched a hole in the wards with power and opened a gate outside.
This was more than enough to make several strong auras flare up in the building, and so they immediately jumped though, closing the gate behind them.
Only moments later, the Shuzens nearly kicked in the door, weapons drawn, finding the card immediately.
"Alexander L. Harris, Sunnydale, California, USA
By the ancient rules: Just married"
Akasha picked the card out of Issa's hands with a frown. "Well played, young man, well played."
Then she showed the backside to him and her co-wife: "PS) I'll tell you how I beat your formidable system at the wedding.
PPS) please send the rest of her stuff soon, I can only carry so much."
Issa shook his head. "I so want to kill the boy right now, but he's right. It IS by the rules."
Gyokuro laughed. "I think 'boy' is the wrong word here."
"So romantic... Big Sis didn't even fight him..."
The adults quickly turned around to see Moka stand in the door with stars in her eyes.
"...right." Akasha declared. "We're gonna ward your room extra strong, young lady."
"Hold my beer," Alex, giving in to the urge to say those exact words, said.
"You may be one year older, but you are still 9 keiki," Kheine replied with dry earthly amusement.
"My glass of non fermented juice then," Alex brushed the matter away with his hand as if it wasn't important. And then he ritually summoned a glass of iced grape juice, umbrella straw included, for the express purpose of handing it to the island spirit.
"Alex, what are you planning?" Briar, the party pooper fairy, asked with trepidation. She didn't need a magical familiar connection to know that any spur of the moment impulses her partner got were fraught with danger, "And why did you even bother summoning the juice if you didn-"
"-enough questions!" Alex declared as he walked to the edge of the beach.
"HEY YOU! YES YOU, THE DIRTY SHITTY POND THEY CALL THE PACIFIC. THE LITTLE RIVER THAT HAD TO GIVE WAY TO PANGEA UNTIL IT BECAME A LITTLE INSIGNIFICANT STREAM! BE A GOOD LITTLE SPIRIT AND ADDRESS YOUR BETTERS" Alex yelled out, full pitch, his voice reverating into the horizon until there was nowhere where his speech did not carry.
In the wake of his proclamation there was only silence. Silence and the sound of a hand meeting a face as a 30 meter high wave started forming in the distance, getting bigger as it picked up speed and headed for the island.
"Goddessdamn it Alex," Briar breathed into her palm as her second hand joined the first.
Jessica POV:
Even though you had given your consent for Alex to enter this...Contest? Quests from his goddesses(and wasn't it odd that you were used to thinking of them as real, tangible?)? Whatever this was. Anyway, long story short, you were still worried about your baby boy. It didn't matter that he was a wizard/martial artist/priest/psychic out of comic books fusion. He was still your baby. It didn't change a bit ever since you first took him in your arms on that hospital bed. You loved him and you would continue to love him until you were dead. (And from what you have learned/eavesdropped on conversations from his various friends over the years, afterlife was actually a thing so you didn't think death would change anything about a mother's love for her children.) What were you thinking about? Ah, the trials. You were glad that Briar was with him. That boy was a handful.
*seeing both Briar and Alex going murderhobo on the giant squid while laughing like demented children, screaming about revenge*
...
This was definitely coming from Tony's side of the family.
Spectator: "Lu-sensei, as I understand it Alex has never used a sword until fairly recently correct?"
Lu-sensei: "Yes. He first started using one last June."
Spectator: "I see. You must be a truly excellent teacher for him to have advanced so far."
Lu-sensei: "Ah. Unfortunately the Five Elements sword style isn't very compatible with Alex's chosen type of sword, so I've had very little influence in his teachings there."
Spectator: "...so who did he learn swordsmanship from then if not you?"
Lu-sensei: "To the best of my knowledge he has never studied under a sword-master. All his knowledge comes from observing other's in the use of their swords and first hand practical experience."
Spectator: "I see..."
In less then a year, Alex's birthday is in April IIRC, Alex has almost mastered the fundamentals of sword fighting without any assistance from a teacher of any kind. He is more or less completely self taught. This is what I mean when I say bullshit protagonist tier learning speeds.
The Trials of Moblin: Part 1, Spinning Spiders
You were confused.
For some reason the world kept changing around you, and no one would explain it! Even Alex was more distracted by his friends arguing than noticing your concern over the apparent instability the universe had suddenly gained!
Not that you blamed him. It is only good that one makes their friends not fight. That's How Things Are Done.
Luckily you noticed something while the girls are arguing. The mysterious glowy place has returned! Last time it showed up before the world started getting crazy. It is also very shiny and weird so it is your doggy duty to investigate!
While Alex explains something in his explaining voice to the girls and meat boy, you leap down into the big circle pit. It's not that far, because you are a strong dog. Strong dogs can jump really well!
You wander over to the weird glowing thing and begin sniffing around. It doesn't stop you from entering and it isn't until the world starts fading you think that maybe you should have sniffed less thoroughly.
"Moblin no!" Alex cries from the place he was standing.
He looks very see through. That's bad!
I did not plan for this. We should have made rules against animals taking the trials. Can he even qualify for these?
Oh no the world was changing again! Why was this happening? Couldn't someone stop it?
I guess these trials just became an experiment? Let's try this, if he runs we count it as a surrender.
Ah. Now you were in a dark room made of dirt.
With a puff of stinky black and purple smoke something shiny with a lot of legs that began spinning in circles the moment it appeared. For some reason it was scraping out a song in the ground as it turned in place.
You spin me right round, baby
Right round like a record, baby
Right round round round.
Hey! You what are you? you bark.
It finishes a turn and two lines of evil red eyes glare at you.
Spider of the Curse: Gold Skulltula
Hey! the spider yells, it's gold shell gleaming.
What?
Hey! it yells again, waving it's forelimbs at you Go away! I'll curse you!
You can't curse me! you complain in loud barks.
The spider seems alarmed at that.
I CAN'T!? WHY!? HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE!?
Wait, why can't it? It's a pretty broad curse.
You can't! you repeat, barking louder to get your point across.
Yeah, it should be able to curse him.
NOOOO! the spider scrapes out, its limbs drop with sadness Cursing won't work and it's all I'm good at.
It CAN curse him. The skulltulla just isn't very smart.
It's okay. you tell it, I'm sure it would have been really good.
It would have! the spider replies emphatically, You'd have never seen such a curse. It'd be such a good curse.
You should curse something else. you suggest, letting out happy dog noises and wagging your tail playfully.
The spider spins around once, mumbling to itself.
Right round, right round...
It finishes spinning and looks at you again.
There's nothing else here. Are you sure I can't curse you to make you go away?
Nope! you bark happily.
Aw… Can you go away anyway?
I do want to go away, you tell the spider. You're tired of the places changing, I need to find Alex and get him to make things stop changing.
I get that, the spider nods, I guess if I can't curse you to make you go away I can't really stop you from going away either.
Do you want to go away together? you ask, excited. Maybe Alex will like the shiny spider.
Nah, I've kind of got my own thing going on. Good luck finding your Alex!
Thanks shiny spider! Good luck with your thing!
Thanks!
The spider immediately began turning in place again, scraping out its song.
Does this count as a win?
Like a record, baby
I think it does. Here I'll do the next one.
Then the world changed again... Dog darn it this was a problem.
A/N: Yes, I planned out all 9 of them. I'll continue when I'm less strapped for time if this is well received.
The Trials of Moblin: Part 2 Flower Power
At least if the world was going to change it had become nicer than the dirt room. You particularly like the white picket fence separating you from the fog that obscured the rest of the world. Not as much as you liked the grass though. It was like, the best grass ever.
Ah, the empty field. A classic enemy.
You roll in it.
Give it a second.
You roll in it so much.
Ah! Moblin behind you!
Great grass. Would recommend to Alex for tussling. It's nice to be in a yard again. Hm? Why is the sound of grass rustling continuing after you stopped- OW, THE TAIL!
Oh, I'm gonna teach that overgrown weed a lesson.
You roll forward and spin around to see what bit you and find a familiar shape. It is the tiny bitey thing Briar Fairy will not let you sniff, Snappy! It's much bigger, and much bitier! It's more like a Big Bitey!
Stop! Grab her!
CARNIVOROUS FLOWER: DEKU BABA
Damn it, hold still. He's barely even bruised!
You bark at the Big Bitey. Big Bitey, no biting! Big Bitey, no biting!
We can't run him through trials if we're going to try and destroy the first thing to hurt him, he'll be fine. Also, wasn't this your pick for an opponent?
It seems unimpressed so you bark more.
I didn't think he would actually get bit by it! It's a Deku Baba, they're like the lowest tier of harmless enemy we've got!
Is it getting taller? It is! Before your nose its neck extends higher until the vine holding it up is as long as you are.
Well calm down, we'll just pull him out if it looks like he's going to get bad hurt since he can't surrender. He'll be fine, probably.
Oh, that might be a problem. This fenced in area isn't wide enough for you to get away from him.
I heard that!
He bites! You sidestep hurriedly and bark at it some more. The lunge appears to tire the plant out so you get some good solid condemnations of this character and behavior before it reels itself back in.
It bites again! What a rude thing this plant is! You give it warning nip, like one would to a puppy that is getting too aggressive but doesn't take warnings seriously. You may have bit it too hard though as it is much lighter than you expected, and goes flying off in the other direction, it's vine snapping in the process.
Oh dear, you hope it's okay. You watch cautiously, a warning growl in your throat as the vine thrashes, and then turns the bitey part of the Big Bitey toward you. Then it leaps and you have to dodge.
Then you have to dodge again! Big Bitey begins chasing you, it's biting head now free of the leash that it's vine served as, the vine now bounding freely behind it as it pursues you. This is awful!
Okay, this is kind of funny.
You run in circles around the edge of the fence, the angry Bitey hot on your tail.
Y'know I never actually checked, what do they do when they're done pursuing a prey item after they get uprooted like that?
Tail? That gives you an idea.
They can replant themselves, but they need to eat something to get the energy to make roots quickly.
You look over your shoulder at the Vine extending from the Bitey. If it's like a leash or a tail, you can make it stop by pulling it!
Doesn't that leave you with two flowers with the root system growing a new head, and the head growing new roots?
In a feat of acrodogics your ancestors would be proud of you rebound off the corner of the fence, leaving bitey to bonk into it, then wheel around and bite at the loose vine.
Yes. There's a reason they haven't been eradicated. They can reproduce like mad.
Gained Acrodogics D+++
Gained Favored Enemy (The Wagging Pursuer) C+
Gained Grab and Drag C
Big Bitey tries to turn, and bite you, but you back up, and it's head is yanked away as you pull its tail straight. It tries again, and you repeat the action. Finally it jumps forward, trying to free the vine from your grip, you pull all the same.
With an audible pop the vine comes free… from Bitey's bitey part. Bitey let's out an angry hiss and its bitey part shrink in a cloud of purple smoke before exploding into a handful of colorful rocks. In your mouth the vine straightens and stiffens as the same smoke leaks from no he's dead! Briar is going to be so angry! She's gonna sprinkle dust on you until you sneeze forever.
Wait...
Is this?
Gained Deku Stick
YOU GOT A STICK! This is the best day ever! It's a really big stick too! It's as big as you are! You're so excited.
Aw, he likes it. What else have we got for him.
Victory laps are in order, and you run a few circles around the fence's border until you realize the fence is gone.
Let's see how he handles this.
Wait, did you accidentally leave the yard? You don't have a leash! You're going to get in so much trouble!
The Trials of Moblin: Part 3 Cats in the Bag
Oh dear, where were you now. You don't recognize this street.
Wait, how is this a challenge for him? He's like eight times her size!
You're sure you must be near your home. The Big Bitey should grow near where Small Bitey lives, and that's your house, but you don't recognize this street from any of your walks.
Patience.
There's no way you'd have missed a place near your house made of so many stacked rocks. Even the path is made of rocks put closely together. It would help if you could see further, but the street is lined with those same stacked rock buildings, and the sky is dark. Your only light source is the lamps that are lit near some of the doors.
You scratch at a door, but an indistinct voice yells at you angrily.
"Go away you dirty animals! No handouts here!"
Is there someone in there?
You sniff experimentally. It doesn't even have that subtle rotten eggs smell that seems to cling to everything outside the house. Are you not near home after all? Do Bitey things actually grow in more places than your house? You're never going to find Alex at this rate.
No, it's just an effect. I may have had to go a little out of my way to make this one work.
It's hard to admit, but you are beginning to become disheartened, and not even the presence of your precious stick is enough to soothe your worried heart. Your tail is barely wagging at all!
You look lost. a voice meows behind you.
You spin in place and find a fluffy grey cat laying on one of the stone fences that enclose the pitiful thing these houses call yards.
Hello! My name is Moblin! Who are you? you greet her cheerily. Finally, someone sensible to talk to. It is important to be polite to animals you don't know. Most of them are at least as good at defending themselves as you, and some of them are dirty cheaters that weren't animals at all! Cats especially appear in both categories quite frequently.
My name is Louise. I take care of Telma and her bar. Though they're both quite far away from here. The cat tells you.
Do you know where here is? I'm looking for Alex, but everything keeps changing and I am starting to think I am lost, you admit.
Did no one explain what you're here for? Oh, you poor thing. You can't go back until you finish all the trials. Well, you could, but then you wouldn't get the best treat.
I know exposition is boring, but I don't think battling sleep counts as a trial.
What's a trial? What kind of treat is it? Is it delicious?! Is it turkey?! Zelda gave me turkey once, but I'm not supposed to tell anyone, because mom would get really mad.
Hush.
The cat seems amused.
It's better than the biggest turkey. But you have to do a bunch of hard things to get it. Fight some mean things, or just make them stop fighting you so you can get past them.
I don't get it, but okay. That sounds amazing! Then I'll find Alex? Your tail is wagging at full strength once more!
The cat sighs.
Yes, you'll find Alex, but first you have to finish this trial.
Are we doing it now? you tilt your head.
Yes, you'll have to beat me if you want to go on to the next one. Or you could just give up like the mangy dog you are. I'd prefer that.
I am not mangy! you bark vehemently, Alex gave me a cream for that!
The cat is giving you a strange look.
So you want to fight me?
Nope! you admit, But I want the treat. Can I have the treat without fighting you?
HYRULE TOWN CAT BOSS: LOUISE
No, but I guess I can send you home quickly. Get him.
What?
What?
You don't have time to consider that when suddenly you feel a weight and several angry pinpricks on your back. Suddenly the street is filling with the growls and snarls of cats as other cats flood out of the darkened alleyways while Louise watches. No!
Okay, that seems more appropriate
Your worst nightmares are being realized! The unending tide is coming for you!
Gained Traumatic Memories E++
Maybe too appropriate?
You rear up and kick and scratch and bite, trying to get the cat on your back off. You catch a glimpse of an orange tabby out of the corner of one eye, and he's holding on really painfully. Nipping at the leg you can reach, he releases it and jumps away, but now the other cats are reaching you. You continue take aggressive little bites, and bark and growl, but they've encircled you and whenever you look away a cat takes a swipe at you, and a couple brave ones, pounce. It's all you can do to keep them from using the time honored dogpile to drag you down. How humiliating.
Gained Grappling E+
What's a dog to do in this situation?
For some reason you recall a couple years ago what a dog you met at the park told you once.
If you ever find yourself in the pound, a hostile place surrounded by strange animals, you need to establish yourself in the pecking order. Find the biggest, most important looking animal in there, and go bite their tail off. Even if you lose, it'll tell the other animals you mean business and help keep them from picking on you and stealing your food.
Wow, you haven't thought about him in a long time. He hasn't been around since his kid's parents took him to the country because he was too aggressive over his food. You hope he's enjoying it there. Everyone tells you it's very nice. Maybe you'll get to go someday!
Kitty fangs in your leg snap you out of your short mental diversion and you nip the cat back, and it releases you, but in the same amount of time two more cats have jumped on you. Meanwhile, Louise just lays on the wide stone fence watching impassively.
Oh! You've got an idea!
You do a quick roll and shake, alongside a few well placed almost-bites, and get loose of the horde, a quick spin warding the circle of angry felines off. Then, to all of their surprise you leap, landing on the wall and rushing Louise.
The fluffy cat barely has time to roll over and get her claws up, but it's too late. You dive in and snap your jaws shut.
Gained Bite B+
Louise goes very still, but you can feel her claws digging into your chest and shoulders, and you're both growling. You can feel the cat's blood racing through your mouth.
A cat from the crowd starts to creep forward, and you growl a louder warning, and shift Louise slightly, her claws dig a little deeper, but they're not on anything especially sensitive.
Stop. Stop, Louise says, and the ring of cats freeze in place. Okay, you win. Good job. Will you please let me go now?
You want to, but the mob of felines around you look even angrier after you went straight for Louise.
Back off, he passes, Louise croaks out. The clowder starts to break up and filter back into the alleys slowly, still watching you carefully.
Relaxing your jaw, Louise pulls herself free, and retreats a couple shot hops away, jumping up onto the even thicker fence posts that support the street lamps. She sits down primly and straightens her fur. After a moment she looks down on you like you hadn't just been at each other's throats with her coming off the worst. If anything it looks like she intended to do that all along.
Alright, good job. Good luck with the rest of your trials.
There are more? you whine, you want the treat. You hope it's Alex. Playing with Alex is the best treat.
Yes, probably a lot, but I wasn't told how many.
Tell him 'Six.'
Six? you ask?
Wait did he just hear me?
Did you just hear a voice say 'six?' Louise asks, sounding put out.
Yes. I hear them all the time around Alex, but they hide too good, so I don't know where they are. Do you know where they're hiding.
He what?!
Gained Listening A
Then why did they make ME tell you everything, I'm very busy you know. I could've enjoyed not having to pick a fight with a dog. She says it accusingly but it doesn't seem directed at you. You still fold your ears back and lower your tail feeling a bit guilty.
He's a barely magical dog! How were we supposed to know he'd hear things that even a local fairy couldn't pick up.
You have very good ears.
Dogs have very good ears. They can even hear ghosts, Louise informs the voices perfunctorily.
I knew that, but he's just a- I mean. Ugh.
Is she okay?
This is why we use priests and sages as mouthpieces and not cats.
Rude, Louise huffs.
We're going to have to talk even quieter now aren't we?
I don't mind, you bark at the air, seeing if they can hear you like they do Louise.
Look, let's just blame it on Alex, and worry about it once it becomes an actual problem.
Is the trial over now? I need to check on Telma.
YES.
Aw, the world is changing again. As Louise fades from sight, it occurs to you that you forgot to ask how many 'six' is.
The Trials of Moblin: Part 4 With a Big Enough Leever You Can Move the Dog
While you are distracted contemplating the mystery of 'six' the stone around you blurs away and turns to dust, and the rocks of the street under your feet turn into sand. The air is dry and stings your nose. The sand seems to stretch on forever except for a single pool of water lined with various plant life nearby.
There doesn't appear to be anything else around.
Nice Ladies? Hello?
You wait a moment, but they don't speak. Well, you're not going to wait forever. You've got to get that treat. First though, you are thirsty, and the water in that pool looks really tasty.
Padding over to it your paws sink into the sand more than a little, and it makes your jolly half-run significantly harder. Also the feeling of the sand shaking under your feet is distracting.
Wait, he just- How did it miss?
The sand sifts down behind you, surprisingly noisy, and seems to spread out in a line moving past where you were standing. You turn around to see if you missed something, but just see the sand spinning in the wind.
Keep your voice down. He might hear you.
It must have been your imagination. Mentally shrugging you get the drink. The shade from the little trees around the water is nice. It keeps the beating of the sun off your head.
The faint shifting of sand under your paws reminds you of the weirdness of this location and that there's supposed to be a 'trial' here somewhere. You should probably get on that, so you start doing a lap around the pool sniffing for anything unusual.
Twice? How does that happen twice?
You catch a whiff of a new plant-smell in the wind behind you, but when you turn around there's nothing there.
Let's not use monsters you can dodge by accident next time, this is just sad.
There's a bit of a furrow in the sand, but sniffing around doesn't solve the mystery. Maybe you need to leave the water and head out into the desert? You're already pretty lost, you can't get much worse.
Eyes. Eyes are mandatory.
You consider your options. Supposedly you're going to get a treat for doing whatever a 'trial' is, but you can't find anything to tell you what the trial here is. A whimper leaks out as you look out from under the shade of the trees at the sandy expanse around you. You need to keep your spirits up though, so you wiggle your butt in the sand, thumping it as your force your tail to wag.
The sand starts shifting beneath you again, but you ignore it in favor of trying to think of what to do next.
OW!
For the second time today something slams into your butt and throws you forward. Rolling you come back to your paws, sliding a bit in the sand and bark the alarm.
Finally!
A weird purple with horns is sticking out of the ground where you were sitting. It's nearly as big as you are, but you can't tell where it's eyes are supposed to be. Maybe the colored spots are eyes?
GREATER CACTUS MONSTER: PURPLE LEEVER
It stands for a moment, then begins to spin and surges toward you. You bark warnings at it as it charges you aggressively, and at the last moment, when it clearly isn't stopping, you jump out fo the way. The purple thing continues past you, though when you change to barking insults at it the thing's path begins to curve back toward you.
You brace yourself to dodge again, but the purple thing disappears into the sand as it spins toward you.
You're left standing in the desert looking quite foolish. You walk over to where the thing disappeared and start digging again. The purple spinner is nowhere to be found. It must dig REALLY fast!
Gained ZeldaDanger Sense B++
Some faint feeling beneath you tells you to move, and you leap aside as the purple spinner reappears, erupting from the sand to whirl through where you'd been standing. You bark at it again, but it just alters course to try and follow you before disappearing into the sand again.
This repeats several times, with a couple close calls where it knocks you aside, and you finally have had enough.
When the purple spinner passes this time you lash out and bite it, getting a good grip on one of the horny things coming out of its head. The thing shrieks and flinches away, but you don't let go. Still for all that it's your size, it's much wider than you and its flinch drags you along with it.
Then it starts to spin again.
This is the worst feeling.
Your body is floating off the ground as you're spun along with the rapidly turning purple thing. It shrikes continuously as your weight continues to pull on its horn thng. You're getting dizzy, but you don't let go. If you let go you lose.
Gained Tug-of-War B++
As the purple thing jinks and jags back and forth you begin to worry you're going to lose your grip when suddenly you find yourself sailing through the air, the purple things voice louder than ever.
You hit the sand and hear something crack. There's a horrible taste in your mouth, and you're pretty sure that that's going to bruise. You really hope the cracking noise wasn't what you think it was.
Regaining your feet you feel something on your tongue and find that the purple things horn is still in your mouth. Looking over at it you see it sinking into the sand with more pained noises.
More importantly, you check where you landed and see your worst fears are confirmed. You landed on your stick. When you fought the cats it had disappeared in the darkness after you abandoned it so you could pull some of the mob off you, but apparently it had just been waiting for you to find it again, and this was how you repaid its loyalty. When you landed on it you snapped off part of it near one end. How shameful.
Dutifully you collect the stick and silently apologize to it. Your quiet mourning is interrupted by enraged noises and you turn in place, ready to leap to safety to avoid the purple things counterattack. Instead you find resistance as the pointy end of your stick slides into the purple thing and it stops dead in its tracks.
You pull your stick out and the purple thing deflates like a basketball after you play with it too roughly. Prodding it with a paw it explodes into a cloud of purple stuff and you flinch away.
That was weird. Now is someone going to come explain the 'trial' thing to you or not?
Oookay, moving on.
Apparently not, as the sand suddenly kicks up around you, and when it settles the world has changed again.
A Glimpse into the Future?
*Ding Dong* The doorbell rang.
Alexander Harris, teenage kung-fu sorcerer extraordinaire, happened to be the closest to the door so he opened it. To his great shock, a vampire stood in the doorway.
"Alex?" Shuzen Kahlua asked hopefully.
"Kahlua? What are you doing here?" She was in full regalia too, with the half plate he'd given her over the years and the necklace of protection against water.
She slumps a little, "I… Can I stay here for a while?" The tanned blond asked.
Alex moves out of the doorway, saying nothing.
Kahlua gives him a look before regally sweeping into the house. She promptly collapses onto the couch.
"Seriously though, I thought your family was terrified of the Hellmouth?"
"That's why I'm here." She says, "I'm running away from home."
What. "What? Why?"
"Do you know what I do for a living Alex?"
"I thought your family lived off it's investments?"
Kahlua scoffs, "Hah. That may be true for mother and father, but we children need to work for our allowance."
There is an awkward pause.
"I'm an assassin Alex. I kill people whenever Mother or Father command it." She lies back, looking at the ceiling, "And I hate it. Seeing the life leave someone's eyes..." she shivers, "It's horrible, and knowing you caused it is worse."
Alex is silent.
"But I can't just… disobey my parents right? They're family! Even if they've been sending me on more and more missions more and more often. But then I met Altria."
Alex blinks. "You've known Altria for years."
"Yeah. But this time she was doing a stint as a bodyguard. For the person I was supposed to kill. I know she's too good for me to get past without having to kill her first. And… and..." she's shaking now, "And I couldn't. I can't bring myself to kill a friend. So I left. I hopped a boat to Los Angeles and made my way here."
"… I'm honored, but why not go to Altria? I know she would be happy to have you, and Mr. Drake would jump at the chance to give Issa a black eye by protecting you from him."
Kahlua looks away. Is she blushing? Nah.
Nayru, my boy is denser than a goron. Help.
"I don't trust Ambrose. I do trust you. And the Hellmouth will keep my family away more effectively than anything the Drakes could muster. Can I stay here? Please?"
The Trials of Moblin: Part 5 Tektite Vacation
The sand settles around you and you've relocated as expected. Now you're in a rocky area on the side of a super tall rock hills. The sand appears to have settled to highlight a trail going up and down along the side of the rock hill, and you're spoiled for choice over which direction to go. That being the case, you sit down and have a think while enjoying the view of the nice grassy fields and lake in the distance. This place is nice for somewhere you'd rather not be.
You hope this treat is the greatest treat ever. The excitement overwhelming you to find out what it is is unbearable. It might even be another stick! A clean one! With no stinky purple thing goo on it! That's the best thing you can even think of.
Hurray for a low bar on rewards I guess...
Your current stick is still an excellent stick though. It's all sticky. Except the part where you accidentally poked the purple thing. That part smells bad and is sticky in the bad way. You carefully shift the stick to put the stinky part further away from you. It makes your head tilt a bit, but that's fine.
The sound of the ground getting scuffed higher up the hill where the trail switches back to pass above you draws your attention. Suddenly a shining figure sails from above to land in front of you on four pincered legs. It's body is covered in a golden carapace that's incredibly nice. They should be proud of it. It appears to be just a body and some legs though. That's weird, but reminds you of something…
As the weird four legged thing turns around, it's legs making noise as it scuffs the ground like the nice spider did, you recognize it.
EVIL GOLDEN SPIDER CRAB: GOLD TEKTITE
It's a giant tick! You turn tail and run, and it leaps after you.
No! No ticks! I don't want to be set on fire again! Stay away! you bark around the stick as you run away.
I am not a tick! the tick chitters at you!
You flashback to when Dad tried to get a tick off you by coming at you with a lit match. It was very scary!
Why would anyone do that?
Go away, tick!
You're supposed to extinguish the match and quickly press it against the tick to burn its bottom and make it remove itself.
I am not a tick! the tick complains behind you, I will stomp you!
And that works?
The giant tick sails over your head and your screech to a halt in time for it land in front of you with a loud noise, you almost have to just duck and skid under its long legs to avoid it.
Not well enough, or consistently enough to be worth terrifying a dog with the smell of fire and smoke near its fur.
It starts to turn to you again, once again making the weird ground scuff noise, and you reverse direction. Maybe if you run faster!
You hear the whump of the tick jumping and see its shadow go over you in time to roll out of the way as it lands where you were.
Oh no, running isn't working and it's all you're good at! You gnaw at the stick in your mouth to soothe your worry. What else can you do?
The tick starts turning to face you with its tiny steps.
Legs… You've got it! Your secret Moblin Techniques, which you hope to pass down your line for generations!
You rush forward body slam into a leg before popping away. It doesn't appear to do any damage, and worse, the tick doesn't even trip like you wanted! It's other legs just held it up, and it tried to kick you. This is bad.
Gonna squash you like a bug! the angry tick chitters loudly.
It's almost turned around, so you act quickly. Dropping your stick for a moment, you nip at one leg, trying to get a good grip on the golden tick's shell, and you pull. When you do this to people's pant cuffs they fall over all the time!
The tick's leg just slides out of your mouth as you try and pull, it's hard shell smooth enough to prevent you from penetrating or catching well enough to get a good grip. What little you accomplish is thwarted again by the tick's other legs.
Why do things with many legs have to be so hard to trip? You just want to run away so you can find a 'six trials' and go home! Why do things keep being mean to you?
You'll have to try your greatest technique, honed from an accident with Mom to become the signature technique of the Moblin Trip Style.
What?
The tick is confused as you abandon all defense to make a headlong rush at it. There's no time for it to respond as you dive between its tall legs.
MOBLIN WEAVE!
You slide yourself between its exposed gaps, and then raise your head. The tick teeters as you stand, and falls over onto its back!
Oh nice. Usually you need a hammer for that!
Ah, help! I've fallen. the tick complains
This is the most powerful technique in your arsenal. The moblin weave goes between your legs and then makes you fall over for reasons you're not clear on. It didn't work as well as you'd hoped on the tick, againt its many legs thwart you, but you managed to pull if off with your superior experience.
Collecting your stick, you race down the rock hill. That should lead to the nice fields, and from there maybe you'll find a way back to the place where Louise was so she can tell you how many a 'six' is or what a 'trial' is.
Racing down a switchback you hear the whumps of the tick struggling higher up punctuate themselves with a particularly loud whump. Ignoring it you keep running. A shadow falls over you again, and, in an instinct you're quickly learning is helpful, you dodge to one side!
The big tick is back!
Squash you! it let's out a rattling screech.
Droppping your stick, you try the Moblin Weave again, but the horrible monster has learned, and instead of letting you topple it, stands onto its tippy-pincers so you can't get enough leverage. Then it slams its body down knocking you into the sand.
Your dazed, for a moment, but the light returning draws you attention to the tick jumping again, straight up.
Getting paws under you, you dash out and grab your stick, trying to flee again.
Does this count as giving up?
Think. The Moblin Weave worked once, you just need to up your game somehow.
No, wait, he's still trying I think. Give him a bit til he's going to actually get hurt and then we'll pull him out.
Mind racing, and coming up with no useful way to improve your greatest technique, you slide to a halt when you see the tick's shadow in front of you. Maybe if you abandon your stick you could get away? No, never. You'd never abandon a friend!
Gained Loyalty S++
Squash! the tick squeals
No! Bad tick! you bark, maybe it's secretly a good boy and will stop if reminded a thing is bad.
Not a tick! Tektite is tektite! it screeches, leaping again.
Ticktite? Must be what you call really big ticks.
You dodge the ticktite, but it's seems to be getting used to your speed, and you barely get out of the way, and your stick smacks against its hard shell as you dodge.
Hm… that does give you a thought. But it might require you give up something. You spin in place to find the ticktite has finished doing the same.
No more running! the ticktite complains.
You growl and charge. As your head lowers to do the Moblin Weave the golden monster immediately raises itself up to resist.
This won't go the same way though, as you slide down you jerk your head, slamming your stick into one over extended leg, sweeping it out of the way and throwing off the monster's balance as your stick snaps.
MOBLIN WEAVE!
You nearly jump, pushing up under the ticktite, and… It stays up. The shiny ticktite teeters on two legs, barely balancing with you beneath it. Your sacrifice has come to nothing.
No. You won't accept that. Pushing harder, you try to force your way deeper beneath the ticktite. Every ounce of your strength strains against the golden shell. Then you shift your head to try and see better, and the pitiful remains of your stick push against the ticktite, giving you just that much more reach.
MOBLIN WEAVE EXTEND!
Gained Moblin Trip A
A dog should not be able to be this cool!
The tick slams to the ground and you follow it down. Your claws scrape against its underbelly as you backpedal off it. Dashing your hopes its underbelly might be weak in the process.
Curse you! the ticktite says, thrashing on its back. Gonna get up again and squish you!
That's right. It can get up and follow you. It can jump far and fast enough you'll never manage to get away, and without stick you won't be able to turn the ticktite over again.
It's angry red eye glares at you as the ticktite swears terrible retribution on you.
Oh. That works.
Gained Finish Bite C
Gross.
You spit out the ticktite's soft eye moments before it and the rest of the tick dissolve into black smoke.
Why do all of these things taste so bad?
To make you stop trying to eat them!
As the world blurs around you again, you cast a longing look to the remains of your stick. It smashed into dozens of pieces when you hit the tick's leg, and now the longest piece barely constitutes a long twig.
Farewell, friend.
Sunnydale's ground shook as mana was sucked to a border of the town.
Mayor Richard Wilkins jumped from his desk, running down the stairs. This needed to be dealt with.
When he hit the street, the phone he was going to use to call for help dropped from his hand.
There was a new wall at the border. Five stories high, over a quarter mile long, full of glass windows, searchlights lighting up the night sky, twenty feet high letters on the roof just saying HARRIS.
Dumbfounded, he looked at the building when Harris' car stopped at the city hall and the man himself stepped out in his usual suit, beard carefully trimmed as always.
"Ah, Mayor Wilkins. I was looking for you, how convenient." Alexander Harris smiled. "I need a building permit."
"A..." Wilkins croaked.
"A building permit. I was using some modular prefab construction, and we want this to be aboveground, don't we?"
The mayor nodded. "Modular...?"
"Modular. Prefabs." Harris stated firmly. "My business card only says Sunnydale, so I guess I needed to make my address more obvious." He shrugged. "Was a pain in the ass to get the roof garden to harmonize with the searchlights, but the helipad helped. So, let's go in and do the paperwork and taxes? Wouldn't want to get the IRS involved."
"Y...yes. Let's."
"Don't forget your phone." Harris pointed to the ground before entering city hall.
It was just before dawn, and most of the village was asleep. Minion One glared at the junior companion. The clumsy oaf had nearly set off the traps on the window. Very bad form. With a deft flick of the wrist, the alarm was severed. Another, and the glass was removed from the frame. Easy, peasy. Minion Two bowed in awe at his (her?) sempai, then dived in and rolled across the floor, coming up in a defensive stance.
Idiot. Still, there were perks to being a sempai, even if it meant dealing with the newbs.
From outside the window, One directed Two towards the objective. Two actually checked for traps this time- So he (she?) does learn. Interesting. -but the moment his (her?) hand touched it, there was a faint flash of golden light. Not enough to light the room, or spoil One's night vision, but Two was gone.
Silent. Instant. No scorch marks. Success! One took a brief moment to relish in the benefits of promotion before silently stealing away. The Elders would not tolerate tardiness.
Just after dawn, Ayane found herself in front of the Clan Elders as the lead the suspect in the disappearance of a young clan member. After two hours of debate, and a breakfast which she didn't get, her accusers were neatly divided into two camps: Either she deliberately enticed a clan member into her room and eliminated them (murder) or she was clearly incapable of protecting such a dangerous artifact from curios hands (incompetence). The hearing was to determine her punishment. That her bag would be confiscated for the 'good of the clan' was a given. Finally, Ayane was allowed to speak, to answer which crime she was guilty of.
"Honoured elders, clansmen, this matter can be settled easily. You had only need ask. This bag has a security feature to prevent theft." With that, she gripped the bag tightly, and gave a muttered command, and with a faint flash and a squawk, Minion Two fell to the floor. Some gasps, followed by loud muttering spread through the room. Ayane blushed. Two was unharmed, but naked.
One blinked in surprise. Huh, I thought Two was the other kind.
Ayana shook her bag, sternly commanding "Let go." After a few seconds, Two's clothing and gear fell out, along with several personal items Ayane had been looking for, neatly pressed and smelling of lavender.
"What is the explanation for this, girl?"
Blushing hard, Ayane glared at her 'bag'. "It seems it wasn't just the other girls who were given pets."
In the end she was grounded, but at least she now knew who the underwear thief was.
The Trials of Moblin: Part 6 Silver Sticks
Alright, you suppose you should see where you are. Another nice field? Couple trees. Dirt road not far away, with a very tall table next to it. Yup. You have no idea where this is, but it does seem close to the place you saw Louise, so that's progress you suppose.
"Shreeeaaahhh!" a voice screams.
You flinch at the horrible voice that rips through the air and look in the distance. Standing on top of the table is a small child.
EMPOWERED GOBLIN INFANTRY: SILVER BOKOBLIN
A very ugly child.
It waves a stick with some bones on it around over its head threateningly and screams again, pointing at you. Did you do something to make the child angry? You hope not, you get scolded for making children feel bad. Especially Zelda.
A bone club? I thought the silver ones had good weapons.
You watch as the ugly child starts running toward you
Moblin isn't quite sturdy enough to warrant actual metal weapons at this stage.
This doesn't feel right. A round of solid barking ensues as you try to encourage the ugly child to stay away from you. Not least of all since the child gets uglier the closer it gets. Its ears are as large as its head, and its nose and mouth are horribly deformed, taking up most of its oversized head. It's also got a horn instead of hair, which is would be weird even if the child was a 'teenager,' a kind of human that tries to make itself look as weird as possible for reasons you're unclear on. You're really happy Alex and Zelda aren't teenagers.
The child finally gets close enough for you to see the white of its eyes, ignoring your warning barks, and you discover it doesn't have whites in its eyes. Instead they glow with some kind of inner fire that reminds you of the things that watch you from outside the yard at night, and a couple time inside the yard.
It also reminds you of Alex when he gets a weird idea and laughs about it, but that hasn't happened for a long time. He never told you what was so funny either. Funny things are supposed to be shared, but you probably wouldn't have gotten the joke anyway. You were just happy he was happy.
The child is not happy, and you're also not happy since the child is not happy, and charging you with its bone stick. You back off a bit, still barking warnings, but the child runs up and takes a flying swing at you. It was badly telegraphed so you got out of the way. The return swing catches you by surprise though. What a strong little child!
Rolling with the hit you take the time to get more distance from the child. That really hurt! It's easily the second worst pain you've felt today! Worse than the tick hitting you, but not as bad as losing your stick.
D.O.G. rest its fibers…
*surprised bark*
You should probably take that thing away from it before it hurts itself. It's not even a very good stick, just thin and weak with bones on it wrapped in super thick string.
Wait, where did you come from?
Rushing back up to the child, it swings at you again, but you aren't falling for it this time! You know it's strong enough to actually swing the stick all over the place.
Bark bark.
You dodge, looking for an opening to grab the stick, but the child just screams more and swings faster.
Oh, I see. I didn't think they were smart enough to do that.
Continually backstepping the child finally loses their patience and does a large overhead swing that plants their stick in the ground.
Bark, bark. Bark bark bark.
You're on it instantly, teeth catching in the thick string holding the bones onto the stick, but the child's strength shines through again. Instead of losing its grip on the stick, it thrusts, smashing the stick into the back of your throat and making you gag. You release it in a hurry and back off. You work your jaw a bit. Nothing feels broken, but that was incredibly unpleasant!
Oh, yes. That would make sense. Did you need something?
The child screeches over its victory in hitting you, and does a little dance, it's short little legs beating the ground to an unheard rhythm.
Bark.
It appears the child is too strong for you to take away the stick by main force. You'll have to rely on your special techniques. The child is too short for the Moblin Weave to be executed easily, but the style you'll pass down your line for generations is no one trick kitty!
Oh, that. Sorry, it was just a false alarm. I'm surprised you heard it in here.
The child appears to sense your resolve, as it ends its revelry and screeches a warcry again.
Bark bark.
Long seconds pass as you move and dodge. Staying just out of the range of the child's swings.
I suppose you would wouldn't you? Well, if you like you're welcome to stay and watch. Always room for more.
Then, in a rage fueled by its own impotence, it swings wider than ever, and too far at that.
Bark!
You move in.
Can I pet you?
Diving under the swing you circle around the side opposite the child's stick. With this angle it will take longer for it to respond to your attack, not that you intend to give it any. Teeth wrap around a naked ankle-
Din!
Bleh, when did this child last bathe?
What? She's cute!
Then you pull.
Bark!
The child is undoubtedly as strong if not stronger than the tick, but the child has made a mistake that the ticktite did not. It has only two legs! Without the support of three other legs, your violent tug is enough to take the child off balance. It kicks out, swinging its weapon behind it for momentum, but instead of holding on you let go. The child topples over onto its back.
See? She's fine with it.
Behold, the core technique to the Moblin School of the Undefeated of the Beast. The trip.
Oh! I want to rub her ears. They look soft!
The child screeches, and thrashes on the ground, rising to its elbows.
*happy dog noises*
Your give it no chance to recover and instead circle around the child again.
Aww.
It responds by swinging its club at you, though on its back it can't put much strength into the attack. This is all the opening you need to strike. You rush forward and seize your target by the neck.
Aww.
The child screeches and tugs and pulls trying to get free of your grip.
...Move over! I want to pet her too!
Gained Tug-of-War B+++
Hah. You caved!
Its strength continues to best you even from its poor positioning, and soon you feel your teeth chattering up along the length of the hard neck.
Bark!
The child senses victory and rolls as it pulls, and you lose your grip on the neck of its weapon altogether. You attempt to grab it again, but only succeed in tearing at the thick strings it's wrapped in before you're thrown away by the force of the tug.
Right, sorry. I'll be nice.
This child's talent and skill at the game is to be feared!
Backing off, you begin to plan how to try again, but you're not sure how to overcome the strength difference between you. The child gets back to their feet, carefully keeping their stick out of your reach, and once it's on its feet screeches furiously. It makes a show of swinging its stick in preparation to charge you again.
Ow!
Something hit you! You look at the thing that just bounced off your shoulder and see a bleached white bone. You look back at the child who is equally confused.
Wait, did we miss something?
Your eyes are drawn to the child's weapon in time with the child's own glowing gaze. Where before was a dangerous tool that risked the child hurting themself now sits a sad lonely stick. Not even a very good stick. You'd barely be very very utterly willing to play fetch with that stick anytime.
Crap, we did.
The child lets out a desparing wail and shakes its feeble stick. Well, your work here is done. You can go back to trying to find your trial.
Ow!
The stick just bounced off your head! It didn't hurt much. The child is screaming at you as snot pours out of its nose and its eyes leak tears.
Where did you find a crybaby bokoblin?
Oh! You know this game! Picking up the stick, you run up to the child, tail wagging. You have fetched it!
How many bokoblins on that level that don't use proper metal weapons do you think there are?
The child wipes the snot off its nose, then yanks the stick out of your mouth and throws it with an angry choked sob. You take off after it, and soon after return with it in your mouth again.
The process repeats, but this time the child is facing away from you and refusing to take the stick anymore.
Aw, come on. It's still a good stick, you whine, nuzzling the child. You offer them the stick again but they won't throw it.
Aw, that was fun. The child throws further than Dad. It was really hard not losing it in this grassy field! A true test of your skills!
Gained Fetch D+++
You up the appeal, hopping up and down, wagging your tail as hard as you can, to the point you fall over and roll over onto your back. Nothing works. Finally you drop the stick and try to lick up some of the tears it-
Ugh. Cough. Bleck. That was bad. This is the worst thing you've put in your mouth since the stinky animal skin that Uncle brought over. Maybe worse. The child hasn't tried to bite you.
It seems to have done the job though as the child stops crying long enough to throw the stick. After several more rounds of throw and retrieve they seem to have recovered from most of their bad mood. The child's smile is hideously ugly, but it's a smiling child and there's no way that's a bad thing.
You play for a while longer, before the child tires out and you collapse into a pile. The child pets you, a bit too roughly, but its mood is drastically improved. Then you start choking as they start messing with your collar. Soon enough they've got it off, and they replace it with their own, which has a much shinier more bulky tag on it that reminds you of a human's head if humans were very tiny and had no skin or noses. You're not sure what that's about, but you're glad the child is happy.
He's pretty clearly got this in the bag.
Also your collar looks quite nice on the child's neck.
Who is up next?
More people should wear collars. You've recommended it to Alex and Briar, but they seem to think they wear enough things. Luckily this grey child is mostly naked.
Hold on, I'm just picking out an arena.
Gained Silver Skull Ornament
Bark.
Lost Collar
You're MORE than welcome to stay and watch. Try to keep your voice down though. Moblin has mysteriously good hearing.
Oh, the world is changing again. The child seems to understand what's happening as it's waving goodbye to you. You bark your farewells, hopping in place excitedly.
I'm still blaming Briar or Alex for that.
What a nice child.
A/N: Unbeta'd. Hurray I got it done in time! I'm finding that I can go into these with very little idea of what to do to get them to a good length worthy of my posting it, and then Moblin starts doing things and that takes care of it. D.O.G. stands for Diety Of Goodboys. They used to be D.O.G.A.G but that was deemed too long, and humans have another name for a female dog in common parlance.
If the D.O.G. causes canonicity problems I can remove her. I just thought she was funny. Merr chrismas.
The Trials of Moblin: Part 7 You All Saw This Coming
The world changes, and perhaps you're becoming jaded, but you're more interested in sniffing around at this point than you are about being upset that it keeps doing that. You appear to be in some kind of stoney ravine. The walls are all rock and crag, and the boulders lying around and at the top of the cliff edge and the strong smell of cracked stone suggest this is a recent development. The ravine is surprisingly wide, and is even flattened in the middle, allowing a decent amount of space to move in, if not to run. You confirm this by running, enjoying the gentle clinking of your new collar on its chain.
Are we going to let him keep that?
As you're sniffing a particularly interesting boulder, you hear the sound of someone else sniffing around.
He's managed to get this far, I think he's deserving of at least keeping his physical memento.
Finally, another dog, maybe. Someone sensible to talk to who doesn't keep secrets and use hard words like Louise the cat.
Agreed. Though even if we didn't let him keep it, he'd probably never notice.
You round a shallow curve in the ravine that reveals the far end of it, and at the far end, a very tall human-like figure who stinks like he's never taken a bath in his life. Judging by the outlandish appearance, lack of body covering clothes, gangly proportions, stupid expression on its face, and the stink there's only one conclusion you can come to...
EVIL NAMESAKE: MOBLIN
It's a TEENAGER! They're almost adults, and that makes them significantly more likely to be useful, but also more dangerous. Their wild hormones make them susceptible to incredible mood swings that stifle their morality and good sense. You'll have to approach this one cautiously.
The teenager's sniffling cuts off and they look in your direction. Ah, the wind in the ravine is blowing in the teenagers direction. A rookie mistake. As you watch the teen screams and runs over to one of the many large rocks scattered around. They lift it and you glean some idea of their intention just before they send it skyward. Oh, that could really hurt.
Farore!
You dive out of the way and the rock smashes into pieces as it lands where you were. The weirdo roars frustration at the sky, and bends over to pick up a stick that looks like the older brother of the one the child was using. Much older. That stick is more like a log with bones jammed in it. Doing a spin to build momentum the teen strikes one wall of the ravine, and then things get loud.
I didn't think they threw things that heavy!
The tremors from the hit seem to travel along the stone walls until they hit a particularly unstable section that causes a massive rockslide that blocks off the section of ravine you came from.
They throw bokoblins around for fun! A little 320 lb stone is not going to stop them!
You jump and dodge frantically. Stones the size of you fall around where you were standing, and the landslide pushes you ever closer to the teenager. Finally the tremors end, and through the cloud of dust it raised you hear the snuffling of the teen looking for you.
Was this arena supposed to do that? Because I like it! We should use a great moblin for it next time!
Creeping around you try to think of what to do. You don't have a lot of room to run away, and this is clearly the kind of teenager that likes hurting dogs that you've heard the old dogs at the park talk about. You consider the tactics you used for the tick and the little boy earlier, but the teenagers incredible height and obvious strength make tripping them seem untenable. Not to mention, if you did manage to trip them you would just have to contend with them on the ground, where their obvious strength would undoubtedly come to the fore.
This is frustrating. It's not like a problem is just going to come out of the sky.
A rock, perhaps having been teetering on the edge above from the earlier shaking like the other large stones rolls down into the ravine next to you, and through the thinning dust you see the teen orient on the sound, and, judging by its joyous cry, spot you.
This really doesn't feel like he's having any success.
You run, and feel rewarded as a massive golf swing from the teen sends a boulder crashing into the wall of the ravine, causing another rain of stones. Not stopping for a moment, you continue circling the edge of the stony area as the teenager bats more and more rocks in your direction. You can't help but notice that you're running out of space between you and the teen.
But he hasn't tried to climb out of the ravine yet. Let's see if he can surprise us.
A wild plan occurs to you.
A smaller rock pulverises itself on the wall to one side of you, and you decide to call it a stupid plan instead, but it's the only plan you've got. It will take all your carefully cultivated skills to carry out though.
You turn and run straight at the teenager. They cackle gleefully at your approach, and begin to line up a big swing to squish into dogburger. Their club wavers above their head as you zigzag back and forth to make aiming harder. You can smell the teenagers horrible odor through the smell of dust and broken stone as you put on a last burst of speed.
With a running jump up the stone by the teenager you give a warning growl, and the teen, surprised by not off guard from your last second course change turns and swings wildly.
Well, so much for that.
Then you surprise him again.
No, wait.
MOBLIN WEAVE
You dive down from your place on the wall as quickly as you leapt to it, using you skill at threading legs to go between the teenagers broken stance as the club explosively smashes the spot you'd just pushed off. As you expected, the teen is much too tall to fall for such a ploy, but the rapid spin has put them off balance, so you body check the leg they've settled their weight on as you pass. They don't fall down completely, but they do fall to kneel at the wall as you race behind them. It will have to do.
Well that didn't accomplish much.
Behind you the tremors from the malformed humans attack can be felt as they propagate out. Screeching to a halt, you look over your shoulder and wait.
The teen gets their feet back under them and turns to roar at you, but is cut off as they're thrown to the ground by a small avalanche of rocks that buffet all around it, pushing it to the earth more effectively than you could.
Score one for Moblin! Er. Score one for the good Moblin
You wait, and hope.
Sadly, the sound of shuffling comes out from under the pile of rocks now covering the teenager, and their progress suggests they'll soon be free. With their ability to throw rocks taking the bone covered log that you probably can't lift won't help you get away. You need more rocks to fall on them.
You notice that the wall they hit is now significantly less sharply sloped after dumping all those stones. Time to leave, you think.
The rocks cut into your footpads as you run up the still pretty steep wall, but the sound of the teen freeing themself gives you encouragement to climb like your life depends on it. It might.
You make a last leap onto a large rock outcropping and come up short as a large hand wraps around a hindleg to pull you back. Scrabbling for purchase on the rock, you find that the teen's weight is slowly pulling you back.
A cracking sound makes both you and your foe pause.
So we're all in agreement as soon as he escapes the ravine we call that surrender?
The outcropping you're on begins to tilt.
Sure.
You kick with all your strength, and the surprised teen releases you. Scrambling up you feel the rock shift under your weight, but you ignore it in favor of climbing to the top. Below, the sound of the teenager climbing reaches you.
Uh, maybe we should bring him back now.
Why does everything try to chase you! It's just in bad taste!
Turning around you lean over the edge to bark at the teen. Then, the sight of the barely attached rock catches you eye, and you begin digging.
Gained Digging D++
You're not sure if it's that, or just that you'd already pulled it loose enough, but the rock you climbed comes free from the wall and falls. Right onto the waiting face of a surprised looking teenager. They collide with a massive sound of flesh and stone and fall back to the ravine below. You watch as the teen hits, and then the rock you dislodge lands on their head. A moment after that their body explodes into purple-black smoke.
Okay, so… do we count this?
Flopping down on the ground you let out an exhausted huff. You miss Alex. Can you be done now?
Well I feel like that's the limit of what we can do for physical opponents. Let's change things up and make the next one slightly different with clearer Out of Bounds areas.
You're tired now.
Fine. But I'm pulling him out if he sets a foot out of line. I think he's reached his limit.
The world blurring around you makes you sad.
No arguments here. That he got this far is kind of scary for a pretty normal dog.
Oh well…
Last Moblin Trial is Shadow Moblin:
Shadow Moblin: "The truth is... you love sticks more than Alex!"
That's not true! Tell him, Moblin!
Moblin: "Of course!"
What?!
Shadow Moblin: "I know, right?! What can Alex do that a stick can't do better? He can't be thrown, he can't be fetched..."
I can't believe I'm hearing this. Moblin, how could you?
Moblin: "It's a shame Alex isn't a stick, then he'd be perfect. It must keep him up at night."
Can't he just turn himself into a stick with magic?
Shadow Moblin: "Poor Alex."
Not helping, Farore!
Moblin: "Poor Alex."
Poor Alex.
The Trials of Moblin: Part 8 Reaping the Rewards of Good Behavior
The light fades, and for a moment you fail to realize that the world has finished changing. The place you've arrived in is dark, and judging by the smell and the flow of air on your whiskers, enclosed. Pin pricks of light far above serve to illuminate a round area of flat carved stone, surrounded by still water. The water is too dark to see through, and if the room extends past the moat surrounding where you sit, then you can't see well enough in the dim light to confirm it.
If he flees into, or is knocked into the water we call it his loss.
The dim light is barely enough to see by, and you sniff the air and wait quietly as you wait for your eyes to adjust, and let your poor body rest after the amount of work its had to do.
This place is smaller than any other you've been in except for the fenced place where Big Bitey was. As the room slowly comes into better focus you spy something sitting at the center of the circle. It looks like a metal box with slats in it. It's the only thing of any interest in the room, except the water, and you've no interest in testing your swimming ability, so you creep up to investigate.
You step forward warily, the last couple times things seemed all quiet it was a trick. A few tentative sniffs confirm it's a metal box, but it also smells like oil, and like the really fresh corpse demons that used to threaten to come into the yard. It's a bit odd to smell the weird dirt smell without the demonic stink that usually clings to it, and you had to smell a lot of stuff and talk to a lot of other dogs to even figure out what a demon was.
The hairs on the back of your neck raise, and you leap backwards.
Gained ZeldaDanger Sense B+++
In front of you sparks erupt in a curved line around the box where you'd been standing. You focus on it, and you make out a vague shape in the darkness. Following the lines of it you can see something perched on top of the handle attached to the top of the box. Whatever it is, is carrying a very long stick with some other sticks attached at the end.
As you're watching that long stick rises again, turns the pointy part reaching from it back so the shorter bit points toward you, then it falls, and you have to dodge out of the way again.
"Hehehehe," a giggle echoes through the room.
You've figured out how to focus your attention now, so you can see when the little figure on the box stands up to a doll's height, and waves it's stick on a stick around. Below it the box lights up with an inner glow, and it begins to float up.
Ah, it's the creepy doll from the movie Alex wasn't supposed to watch! It's finally come to destroy you!
EVIL WANDERING SOUL: IMP POE
Well, you're just about done letting things try to destroy you for the day, unless Zelda randomly appears. You check over your shoulder for a sneaking Zelda, just to be safe. Satisfied that isn't the case, and a little disappointed, you're ready declare no more nice Moblin.
You alert the horrible doll to this with a round of barking the worst kind of invective you can think of!
You're a bad doll! Bad doll!
*alarmed whine*
The doll seems unfazed by the incredible aspersion you've cast on its character, and answer you with another swing of its sharpened-stick-on-a-stick.
Don't worry, he said doll.
A round of frantic dodging follow, with you occasionally darting past the doll's cumbersome stick to try and bite it, only for the doll to float out of the way. This repeats for several rounds before you decide to change tactics.
You bait out an overhead strike from the shorter of the sharpened parts of the stick stick. The strike lands and sparks ring out from the carved stone of the floor, and you make your move. A burst of speed pushes you forward and you close your teeth on the handle of the stick. Your teeth clack together as you pass through the stick harmlessly.
No, of course the stick has to be just as bad as the thing holding it by being impossible to grab. The worst kind of stick. Worse even than a stick in a tree since at least a tree's stick won't give you the illusion you might succeed. You're so disgusted right now.
Then the doll turns the sharp long section of stick on stick and you barely manage to dodge before the doll tugs it back to try and cut you in half.
You growl and hop back a couple times to get space to think.
Well, if the stick won't work, you'll just have to be more direct. No more Nice Moblin after all. You begin directly attacking the doll. And again, despite narrowly finding openings to bite it, your teeth pass through it harmlessly.
Wait, that's not how I remember this working.
The smell of blood leaks into the air. Apparently you didn't dodge as cleanly as you liked, and you can feel a line of pain starting to burn its way up your flank. It's not much more than a scratch but it really hurts, and with that on top of your already tired body, you're at great risk of distraction at a critical moment.
There're are a few benefits magical wolves have over mundane-
After rethinking your plan, and dodging another half dozens swings of the doll's stick, you decide on your next target. You occasionally lose track of the doll and the stick when they move too quickly, or your start to lose focus, but the glowing box seems to be a constant, easily visible even without straining yourself. So you choose to go after it next.
Mostly.
The doll reads your intentions though and when you next get through the large holes in the stick's swings, it just floats over your attempt to bite the lantern.
Right. Ahem, over mostly mundane dogs.
You try again, and the doll just keeps floating to keep the box out of reach. How frustrating.
On your next run you get clever, and jump excessively high to catch the box as it rises, but the doll sees through you and giggles as it drops instead of rising. You pass over the box, passing through the doll's translucent body.
Gack!
Oh you've got to be kidding me. Did you plan this?
Your new shiny collar chokes you as you land, and the incessant giggling of the dolly cuts out its box crashing against your belly.
I.. didn't actually check to see if this was a possiblity.
Thrashing around, your collar continues to try and strangle you, and the doll's box clatters around your feet, and the stick stick sends up sparks in lines around you, forcing you to dodge wildly to avoid them.
I thought silver was for wolf monsters. Can these things even choke?
Is the doll riding you or something?! You buck and thrash harder like Zelda just put a really tasty looking frog on your back that won't come off. Your neck doesn't thank you, but the weird panicking noises from the doll behind you get louder. As an unintentional side effect your legs take a battering as the box starts trying to get through them directly.
No, but shaking things by the neck isn't good for anything.
Finally the doll lets out a loud squeaking shriek and your shiny silver collar goes slack. You surge forward and you hear the lantern clatter to the ground behind you. Spinning in place you turn to face your aggressor.
The dolly is lying on the ground, it's lantern and stick lying on the ground, and floating above the doll is-
Wait, if he's not magical can he even-
BALL!
BARK!
You dive in and grab the ball, it fights you as you try and steal if from the doll, which shifts in time with the ball until you yank it free!
That answers that I guess. Score one for enthusiasm. Okay, yes. Good girl, calm down. We've got plenty of those souls laying around, we'll get you one. Who has the last trial?
BALL! You got a ball! This is the best treat! Why didn't you even think of this? This was worth everything. It doesn't get better than this!
We probably ought to make it a doozy. I'm not sure what will happen to our rep if a mostly normal dog actual clears nine trials.
Gained Poe's Soul!
On it!
As if in response to your obviously winning everything forever the world begins to blur around you. Finally, you got your awesome reward, and now you just need to find Alex. If Louise wasn't lying he should be next, right?
A/N: Unbeta'd. 8/9 We approach the end. The next one shouldn't be terribly long, but I'm going to see if I can run it past Judge directly before I post it, since I'm not sure about my favored idea for the last trial at all.
Oh, if it wasn't clear, the poe got caught in Moblin's silver skull ornament and then proceeded to get screwed up by Moblin thrashing around trying to get loose. I can rewrite if there are complaints about that.
The Trials of Moblin: Part 9 The Good Boys, The Bad Boys, and the Ball
The world fades back into sharp relief, and you get ready to greet Alex with your new prize. The ball you took from the bad doll is cold and pulsing in your mouth in a way that's weird, but new and interesting. It's also squishy, like a squeaky toy, but more malleable even than that. A happy medium between the hard plastic squeaky toy and a plush toy. You bet Alex will like it. Except you don't see Alex.
Where is this? You smell another animal nearby, but you don't recognize the scent beyond it being vaguely canine.
The world has turned into a forest too dark for your eyes to pierce the edge of the grassy clearing you stand in. You focus your hearing and pick up the sound of feet scuffling through the brush around you. The sounds are an odd mixed of two legged shambling, and normal four legged movement. Occasionally you catch a pair of glowing eyes in the dark, gleaming out of you with violent intent.
Slowly the creature in the woods steps into the moonlight bathing the clearing. not that you've ever met a wolf, but you've heard stories passed down over long ages by older dogs. They're a bit odd in that they have excessively developed fronts and weak looking hindquarters, and they shift between four legged gaits, and supporting themselves on two legs when they slow down instead of four as DoG intended. They're also nearly three times your size.
You approach each other cautiously, and then begin to circle. Once you get close however your scents become stronger and you both raise your hackles nearly simultaneously.
"Bad Dog!" you growl around your ball accusingly.
"Good Dog!" the other dog returns, spitting the words like an insult and baring his fangs at you.
The other animal smells like some flavor of monster you've not run into back home, but the stink badness clings to him like a thick coat. Apparently you smell like a good dog, which is actually quite flattering to hear even if such a repugnant animal is the one informing you.
Oh wow, they hate each other. This is going to be good!
VERY BAD DOGGO: BIG WOLFOS
You lower your head slowly, trying to hide the fact you're dropping your ball so you can bite freely, but the evil thing apparently takes this as an opening and rushes you. Once it starts moving you realize that it actually was an opening, the other animal is fast, much faster than anything else you've seen today. You try to backpedal to get out of range but once it closes it rears up on hindlegs and swings a massive forepaw at you.
The hit connects and forces the air explosively from your lungs and your ball from your mouth.
The pulsing purple orb glows red in the moonlight and sails away from you.
Your opponent's eyes turn to follow it and you can almost see the thought forming in its head as he pivots on one foot to follow the balls ascent.
BALL! it barks.
It turns to pursue, but you'll be having none of that! That's YOUR ball and you have no intention of sharing it with Bad Dogs unless they ask first. And they better be very polite!
Grass and dirt scatter under your paws as you lunge after the bad dog, but they're already moving and their body is well out of reach. Their tail waves in the air behind them.
Gained Favored Enemy (The Wagging Pursuer) C++
You're fine biting his tail. He's apparently not, as he shrieks as soon as your teeth sink into it, and he lurches forward with a mournful howl, his tail disintegrating in your mouth.
What? No! It can't be over already!
The evil dog's body is covered in blue flames and it's desolate moans die with it as it disappears into bits of ash.
There there. There's no accounting for luck.
What a drama queen. Who gets so worked up over getting their tail bit that they burst into flames when someone bites it?
If there was we probably wouldn't have seen a dog get through nine trials...
Oh! Your ball.
You run through the clearing looking for the telltale red glow and spot your ball. It's rolling away through the grass with surprising speed. You didn't think you'd spat it out that hard.
Hah. Look at him run. You'll have to be faster than that to get away from Moblin.
Ball retrieved!
How's he even holding that. It's a soul.
You give it a joyful gnawing on and it lets out a mournful squeak. It squeaks! You didn't know it did that!
He bested it in combat. That gives him spiritual dominion over it. Or something. Magic is hard!
The wind blows gently through the grass and your roll in it with your ball. This is nice.
What were you doing again?
Oh right. Guess we should figure out what to give him.
The world around you and you fight off dizziness as it has some spin on it this time.
Bark bark!
Hopefully Alex fixes this crap soon, if you have to keep getting into fights you're going to get into trouble.
I'm pretty sure doing that would be violation of the local rules, as cool as that idea sounds. We'll think of something else.
You're too tired for much more of this.
A/N: Hit Wolfos on the tail for an instant kill. Welcome to version 3 of Moblin Trial 9. Sadly versions one and two stretched carbon in the wrong ways. Enjoy!
"Mr. Drake." You maneuvered Khamsin next to his horse as you re-sheathed your sword, letting a flame cantrip both wipe blood and ectoplasm from your face and cut your beard to its proper five o'clock shadow at the same time. "There's something I need to talk to you about."
"No Arthur? Or Sir?" He quirked his eyebrows. "Out with it, lad. Was good to have you here helping."
"Back at the tournament when I first met Altria, I joked about adopting her after saving her ass from someone else's" you put proper emphasis on that one "summoning accident. She refused because it was a joke, we had literally just met back then and you and Lucia would object."
Lance and Eric Drake slowly rode towards the two of you as well while their mundane troops went back to your enchanted APC. Ambrose and Altria were busy a bit away, which befitted you perfectly.
"We all have outgrown adoption, and this is not the time for jokes." You take a deep breath. "Arthur Drake, I hereby request formal permission to court Altria."
"I take it you already asked Shuzen Issa as well?" He looked at you.
"Oh." You grin. "I am not going to ask him. You, on the other hand, operate on classic chivalry, so..." Your lance, still holding a piece of golem flies into your hand. "I chose the 'prove you can defend the grandchildren, then ask' approach for you. Well more 'show it once again'."
Arthur barked a laugh. "The Chases?"
You replied sadly. "Won't notice anyway."
"...Probably." Drake sighed. "Anna?"
"...I sure hope she outgrew that crush years ago. And I have to say, you're taking this easier than expected."
"You're not the only one able to read people, lad." Arthur snorted. Then he looked at you seriously. "This day coming was clear to Shuzen and me ever since we saw you and Kahlua air-dance at her birthday as we arrived. Tria wasn't amused. Then you gifted her these gloves... Ten years is a lot of time to come to term with things. Of course we first thought, then hoped, puberty would change things. When it became clear that wasn't going to happen... well, the years also were a test of character. One you passed with flying colours. In our training and outside of it, on the battlefield, growing into the Moonlit World and keeping a grounding in the mundane one. You passed it not only for me, but people I may disagree with on many things but their people skills. So yes, Alexander Lavelle Harris, I, Arthur Drake, hereby grant you formal permission to curt my daughter Altria." He smiled, removed a glove and offered a hand you shook after dropping the lance and removing your own glove. "But I'll have Ambrose check you don't use conjured roses ALL the time! And I leave it to you talking her into a wedding dress."
"Pretty sure Cordy will handle that one. As for the flowers... I may not be rich, but I'm NOT cheap. I just put another greenhouse into my gardening plane. And don't tell the Shuzens."
Arthur clapped him on the back with a laugh. "As if I ever would!" Then he quietly tested it. "Altria Harris..."
Eric and Lance arrived, congratulating with wordless grins as you pulled the lance back.
A/N: Befitting the stuff above.
This is before kidnapping Kahlua. He's 17 at minimum there.
Edit: moron grammar error world changed again.
The world changed again.
Lu Tze looked around, almost raising an eyebrow.
Where the other areas had been prepared for combat, this one one was centered around a high-class poker table, several sages standing around, a beer in hand.
One of them tossed him the cards, which he caught on pure reflex.
"That's new."
"A welcome change." Oldman shrugged. "Also, interesting game."
"My first impulse is just saying no. Or rather, ******* no. But that would be way too easy for a wisdom challenge and fail a courage one, so..." Lu ran his hands over the table to test it before letting the cards blueshift between his hands. "I'll deal."
# # #
Outside the ring, Alex and Larry watched in fascination as the old guys played several very quick rounds, the mountain of chips in front of Lu growing over time despite occasional setbacks.
While Akkiko had gone from her early griping to a full on pout, Ambrose was leaning forward in deep interest, mumbling something about tests of character and his schedule.
Alex's parents, on the other hand, seemed somewhat unsure what to think about this new facet of Lu's.
# # #
"Well played." Oldman stated as the pile reached a certain point, rising to change Lu's hands. "Those were some serious bluffs you pulled there, That's a pass."
The world around Lu Tze changed again.
Ride of The Golden Goddesses
"Alex I don't think this is what Terok meant when he talked making sacrificial offerings." Briar huffs as she flutters about your offering.
You muse on her words.
"Terok said that a proper offering to Din had to have fire in it's heart, and be metal in it's spirit. Something of POWER, and STRENTH of ENDURANCE." Those might not have been his exact words but their close enough. Briar merely looks on unimpressed.
"I don't think this is what he meant when he was describing a proper offering to the Goddesses. Also pretty sure this sort of thing would mostly appeal to Din."
You merely grance over to the object of this discussion. A suped up heavily enchanted 32 ford roadster, with it's flame decal encrusted paint job. "That's not true, sure it's a bit unorthodox but it's practical. Also I'm sure Farore will love the battle heartening music it contains, and Nayru will appreciate the hidden weaponry and other gadgets stashed away inside it."
Briar is still less than impressed. "By battle heartening music you mean the play list of songs you got by sorting through your dad's old music collection of heavy metal and rock&roll? That collection?"
"Yep pretty Much, also I noticed you didn't mention anything about the hidden gadgets in it." You watch as Briar fidgets a little midair.
"Honestly that part is kind of cool." Briar gives off a defeated sigh.
"Okay since you've already put so much work into this we should just get it out of the way already. What the Goddesses will do with a magical hot rod I have no clue." And with those words and with little fanfare you cast the spell sending your litttle car on it's way.
"I hope they find it useful, to be honest I just needed a way clear out the out the garage and got carried away again." If looks could cause people to burst into flames you'd be a pile of ash. Although to be fair there are people who could manage it...
_
Else Where In another Time
In a far away place harassed and cornered by a heavy force of the darkest monsters known to Hyrule a young priest prays as his companions huddle in fear. "Oh Mighty Din, Oh Merciful Farore, Oh Wise Nayru Please deliver onto us a way to escape our plight!"
*VROOM*
"By Ganon's unholy Mutton chops what in the Shadow Realms is that!" The yell and unholy(?) racket cuts through the priests concentration as his eyes alight upon the source of those unearthly roars. An unknown force filling his mind as his eyes roam over the shiny and chrome(?) black exterior of the metal beast..
"I'm sure it'll find a good home I can just feel it." You wipe your hands. Only to stop as Briar cuts in.
"Wasn't your other plan to get rid of it was to teleport it into outer space making this by default a better home no matter what." Ah Briar you wound me, that would have been littering and you know better than that.
A short distance into the future:
Lu-Sensei: *receives heart container*
Lu-Sensei: *consumes heart container*
Lu-Sensei: *instantly dings up to EX-rank ki*
Lu-Sensei: *does some exercises, boggles momentarily*
Lu-Sensei: *turns to Alex*
Lu-Sensei: "How many of these have you gotten again?!" *Muttering* "Spirits, no wonder you're such a handful."
Know the Cuccoo. Fear the Cuccoo.
"Oh, shit!" You couldn't help the exclamation.
Those uninformed about Hyrule turned incredulous eyes the the reactions of the natives.
"Alex what the heck it's a chicken," Cordy was the first one to give voice to the questions that everyone obviously had about the reactions.
"That's no chicken Cordy that's a fucking Cuccoo," you reply, " I'm convinced those things are either the result of the Godesses twisted sense of humor combined with a lesson of humility or the spawn of some twisted unknowable thing from beyond the bounds of space and time."
"You're kidding right," Cordy responded deadpan.
"No he is not," Navi replied, " For all they look and act like chickens a Cuccoo is near invulnerable to harm, has a beak that will cut through enchanted steel, and the supernatural ability to summon more of its kind."
"Fortunately," Briar continues, " They don't attack unless provoked and can be out run due to having a short attention span."
"This place has magic murder chickens now!" Soka exclaimed.
"Yes it does," Navi responded, " Remember the dinosaur Kahlua fought?"
"Yes?" Was the confused response.
"I remember seeing one of those attacking a nest once. Hopped right out of the fire breath not even singed and called the revenge hord. Poor thing died screaming shortly after." Navi explaned.
No one seamed to have a response for that.
"Yup it's magical Australia alright," Dave muttered and this time Balthazar did not seem inclined to argue.
"Who here has seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail? Please raise your hands if you've seen the movie."
Several members of the audience raise their hands with bemused expressions on their faces.
"Okay, you know that scene with Tim the Enchanter and the rabbit."
Several audience member grew pale as they suspected where this was going.
"Right now, I'm Tim and that," Alex points at the chicken, "Is the rabbit."
"Run, Asamu! Run!"
"Run Fox. Run away!"
"Flee! Flee for your life!"
"Summon Brother Maynard!"