Author's Note:
Timestamp key: "D" for days, "W" for weeks, "M" for months, "Y" for years, "EM" for early morning, "LM" for late morning, "EA" for early afternoon, "LA" for late afternoon, "EE" for early evening, "LN" for late night, and "AD" for all day. Note that the Realms follows the sexagesimal system for keeping time, just like Earth. (In other words, 60 seconds per minute and 60 minutes per hour.)
Snip category key: There are four categories of snips. "Settling In", "City Life", "Beyond the Wall", and "The Journey Home". All four represent parallel storylines that take place within Aimless, and other than "Settling In", each snip category has at least two subtypes. Those subtypes aren't listed due to potential spoilers.
Enjoy!
Settling In
Chapter 22: Background Check (Final)
"I'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell."
- Five Finger Death Punch
[5D/LM]
Joshua fumbled over Skydancer's question.
F*ck her.
F*ck that question.
F*ck that question to hell.
F*ck Skydancer and that f*cking question to hell and back and hell again! That damn f*cking c**t! All the bullshit he'd been feeding the Court could be unraveled by that one single question. Cynder would be pissed at him for lying under oath, for sure. But what else could he say?
"Okay guys, you got me. I've been lying this whole time! Truth is, y'all were never real to us, at any point. That's right, folks! You're all fictional! Characters made by a guy called Ted Price and reinvented by some f*cking pro artist on Deviantart! All for a f*cking VIDEO GAME: an interactive story, where I got to control Spyro, control Cynder, and make 'em do all those cool things they did during the War!"
Yeah… that would go sooooooo well with these people.
If Joshua had to be honest with himself, he really didn't want to see what would happen if he confessed. The truth would destroy their common sense. It would seize it, pin it down, kick it in the nuts, and teabag the shit out of it hundreds and hundreds of times before pummeling the living crap out of it. Seriously.
The closest analogy Joshua could think of was… well, if some bastard in glasses magically appeared and told him he was a main character in an ongoing Spyro story being posted on FFN. If that actually happened—right here, right now, in this f*cking room—he would totally go ballistic.
Because, one, it meant the author of his life was one f*cking hell of a prick, putting him through all that bullshit at the Gates instead of… instead of just going through with the motions of the typical "human fic" on the archives. Gary Stu, furry harem, worshipping, all that stuff he remembered from FFN's dark side.
And because, two, that would mean—hypothetically, of course—everything he knew was false. A fake. A complete, utter illusion, imagined by some loser living in his parents' basement. Kilat didn't exist. Spyro and Cynder didn't exist. Hell, he didn't exist. And if that was the case…
Jesus Christ, he'd be just like Deadpool! He would know about the Fourth Wall, know he existed solely for other people's amusement. But Joshua simply didn't possess Wade Wilson's strength, or his fortitude. Instead of having fun and pulling off crazy stuff without a care, he would crumple, like…
Like…
Ah. Like Agent Smith, from the Matrix movies. That guy? When he discovered his truth after Neo decoupled him from the System, he went insane. Like batshit-crazy insane. Despair turned the self-conscious AI into a nihilist, bent on manufacturing the annihilation of man and machines alike.
Joshua didn't want to know how the Dragon Realms would react to this news. To him, that was a box he would never, ever, ever, ever open. He'd rather look like a fool than reveal the truth. And that was assuming he could prove it.
So f*ck Skydancer. Joshua hoped she would choke on her food or something later. "Goddammit," he grumbled. I knew I missed something with those lies. Joshua sent a prayer to the Lord Almighty, begging for his poker face to stay intact and convincing. He trained his gaze on the Earth Guardian. "Hey, guys? Terrador? Can we take a short break? I've been talking for a while now, and after that shouting match with ice-cold Gromble over there"—oh, Cyril was not amused—"I'm thirsty, and a little tired."
Luckily, Terrador didn't seem to mind. "No problem", he said. "We'll also get you something to drink." He raised his snout and declared a break, suspending all official activities. After making his announcement, he called a guards to come over. Presumably to fetch the human whatever's needed to quench his thirst.
All right, that's step one. Next, to extend his time some more. He glanced at the Electric dragon-child. Kilat's life signature, he noticed, had shrunk, its rotation much slower than usual. He looked at her face. He felt sad, seeing the sadness on her muzzle. Oh man. "Kilat," he called. "Kilat. Kilat!"
The dragoness's ears perked at the sixth call of her name. She looked towards Joshua. "…Yeah?"
"Meet me at that corner over there, will you?"
Kilat did not refuse the request. She clambered over the divider and leaped down. Joshua noticed the child's slow ambling as she walked to him. Her head drooped, her only wing wilted. That boundless energy he saw in her was gone. Was she thinking about his bullshit? Damn it, he needed to talk to her about this.
But, business first. He knelt down and draggled Kilat closer. "Would you… uhm, would you mind washing my face a little? I, I think I'll be needing it."
A wash meant seven to ten sweeps of the tongue, vertically across the entire face. It also meant two or three prods at the corner of the eyes, with the very same. All in all, a disgusting affair. Given the rancid odor of dragon saliva and its sickeningly gluey feel, a "wash" was something Joshua Renalia would never, ever, EVER consider on a normal day.
And Kilat knew this. "I thought you don't like it when I clean you?"
He forced himself to smile. Think of a happy place, dude. Gotta think of a happy place. Joshua channeled a wonderful memory of a night spent with his girlfriend. He prayed his smile appeared as genuine as it could possibly be. "I don't, but, well… this is one of those rare times I think I need a good washing."
She tilted her head. "Hmmmmmmm, why?"
"There's a very, very compelling reason for me to"—he almost gagged—"look and feel good right now. Trust me on this."
Buying as much time as possible so he could come up with more crap sounded compelling enough.
"Okie," Kilat said. She smiled at him, but it felt somewhat hollow. It wasn't as curved or wide or animated as her usual, chirpy self. The little girl moved closer. He sat down just as she put her paws on his shoulders. He placed his right arm around her, to keep the dragoness steady. "Hold still," Kilat instructed, seconds before she started.
It went terribly, naturally. What else could he ever expect from a facial wash given by a dragon? Her breath reeked like the foul, sewage-ridden canals of Brazil or the Philippines, marinating every drop of spit that clung to his skin. The experience could not even be compared to the fond memory of a pet Labrador licking him out of love. Not when every sweep of her tongue reminded him of the time his childhood bully blew his runny nose into a handkerchief and proceeded to rub, lather, or otherwise smear the sticky goo on his face while his two goons restrained him on the pavement, in full view of his classmates.
In the first few days he'd known Kilat, Joshua had hoped he could get used to being "washed" like this on a regular basis. But shit, it's been several days now. Almost a week. Maybe two, and for the love of God, it was something he never acclimated to. He started to think he wasn't going to get over this, no matter how much he wished. Hopefully the day Joshua started bathing her would never come. That would be just f*cking gross—
Joshua scolded himself. He shouldn't go there now. He needed to concoct some bullshit answer to Skydancer's question, the reason he was suffering this Christ-damned facial wash to begin with! F*cking albino c**t. As far as the human was concerned, that Wind Dragon can go to hell.
He reviewed the question. So why didn't humanity come swooping in from the skies? Why didn't they rush to the Realms' aid while Malefor, the Grublins, and the Apes waged war against the known world, and dominate Spyro's corrupt predecessor in an awesome display of overwhelming might and near-omniscience?
He already established the need for discretion and stealth in his story. He gave some attention to the point about mankind seeking sentient life outside their known world with explorers—autonomous machines with computers, diagnostic software, and communications relays, actually, but he'd rather not go down that rabbit hole. As the saying went, the devil lived within the details.
There was the brief mention of the humans' wariness of meeting sentient life out there. That was the truth, Joshua believed. Didn't Stephen Hawking warn the world a few years ago that First Contact with aliens would lead mankind down a path analogous to Christopher Columbus' discovery of America? A path soaked in the blood and tears of dead natives?
Hmmmmm…. Maybe he should go a bit further into humanity's genetic ancestry with primates and apes? That way he could rationalize their absence as a fear of mistaken identity? He could even use himself as an example! Didn't those bastards at the Eastern Gates attacked him simply because he (barely) resembled an Ape?
It sounded like a good idea. Definitely a direction to—waaait a minute.
Wait, wait, wait, wait… No, Joshua. You can't do that. Bad idea. Terrible idea. Terrible, terrible idea. A lot of people in this city already called him a furless ape, one of the Guardians included among 'em! And didn't he see an Ape with a human-ish face on the day he met Kilat? Surely Warfang was already aware of these "variants", long before Joshua's sudden appearance in this world.
If he went off-tangent with humankind's shared biological roots with the apes of his home world, what would stop Warfang from banishing him? Wouldn't the majority of people forever see him as a dangerous enemy with catastrophic potential? A bomb waiting to go off? That should be sent away as early as possible?
If his audience today was similar to the kind of people who ran his home country, they were probably—they were most likely corrupt. Willfully stupid, maybe. Joshua Renalia couldn't afford the risk of being misunderstood or worse, losing the few allies he had.
Duh, duh-duh. Welp. That's one idea down the drain. What's next?
Human paranoia and the tendency to shoot first and ask questions later? Nope. Obviously not! Terrador already asked about his species' war assets and should Joshua say anything related to it and its use…
Argh. No. Just, just no.
C'mon, man. There's got to be something. Dude, it's time to whip out your inner Jimmy Neutron and think. Think. Thiiiiiiink—
Joshua's concentration broke the instant Kilat started prodding his left eye. Repeatedly. "GAH!"
Some stupid f*cking piece of dirt or whatever got stuck or something and now she's—goddammit, she's using her tongue to pry his eye open. Joshua shuddered. Eww, eww, eew!
No. No, no, no, no. F*ck! She's getting too close to his nose. The gamer suppressed the natural urge to push her away. To whine, to grumble at her like usual. He forced his gag reflex down and struggled to endure her nasty halitosis. "Murr…!" So what if the Court was too busy yammering amongst themselves about his latest bullshit? So what if they couldn't pay attention to the way he carried himself? Joshua didn't want to disgrace himself any more than he already had, not after trolling Spyro for the hell of it and being called out on it in public.
"Joshua," Kilat pleaded. "Please, stay still. I'm almost done."
From Kilat's point of view, the wash went totally fine. To Joshua, it felt like forever. To her? Joshua would've bet a dollar or two that she hadn't even noticed how much time she had spent ensuring his face received the proper "care" and "attention" she felt it deserved.
The teenager welcomed the glorious moment Kilat concluded her task. Any residual disgust lingering within Joshua's mind vanished when the child seized the opportunity to embrace her older, adoptive brother.
"Joshua?" she spoke. She enunciated his name in a slightly higher pitch than usual. Her voice was light. It felt uncertain.
The gamer responded by grunting.
"Did your people see it too? Everything?" She sniffled. "What, w-what happened before? With my parents and Cynder and—and, and, and…"
He had to say something. The thought of Kilat fumbling over all four of her paws with a horror-stricken expression identical to Cynder's frightened him.
Joshua Renalia hugged the child. He wiped his lips on the sleeve of his tunic, then assured her, "I don't think we did." He paused. "Think about it. My kind wanted to keep humanity's existence a secret from you guys. Do you think we'd send many people out here?"
"N-no…"
"Do you think our explorers would just point their cameras wherever and whenever they could, all the time?"
Kilat fidgeted. "Errrr…"
"While the War was going on with Spyro, Cynder, Gaul, the Eternal Night, and all those other things?"
"I guess, I, I-I-I, I guess," She stuttered. "Uhmm, uuhhhhhh…"
Yeah, go on. Go on, girl. Let it aaaalll sink in.
"…No?" Kilat finally offered. He didn't see the sheepish, embarrassed smile on her muzzle. But even he could sense the dragoness's uneasiness. Still disconcerted, despite his reassurance.
"I…" Joshua hesitated to call her out. He didn't have much time to begin with. This was better off discussed in the privacy of their "room". But if he kicked the can on this now, chances were high—very high—he would find himself unprepared when they resumed the hearing. Joshua couldn't—he had to focus—he needed to concentrate…
…No. F*ck them all. He didn't want their relationship to change. He needed her so much more. "I, you don't really believe me, do you?"
The silence spoke for her.
"We don't know everything." He kept his voice down. "Because we couldn't keep an eye on everything. There weren't that many explorers to begin with, and those cameras are precious, precious records of the world out here. It takes hours of precision work for an expert to calibrate a camera for the kind of things that I've seen and heard, and they had to take them back to our side of the world to view the contents. I promise you, I didn't know anything about Mungo Volpe until I met you. I didn't know how Warfang looked like after the War. I actually believed the Apes all died off after the Dark Master fell. And Christ, I don't even know how your parents died."
Joshua's composure very nearly cracked, as he fed this poor child white lies. One after another. He wanted to tell her the truth, if not now then later, in their room. Yet the bullshit wouldn't stop. It kept coming out, even as he finally felt confident enough to open his eyes and gaze at those cobalt seas. The human pinched her lip and stroked the side of her snout. He could see his little sister in her. "Doesn't any of that mean anything to you? The people who told our explorers where to go and what to record only cared about things that would go down in your history for generations. Even if they wanted to, they wouldn't tell the few people out here to risk their lives just to see someone burn down one more village of refugees."
"But Joshua," she bleated. "Y-your—o-o-other humans still… They still…"
"I can't change that. I couldn't have done anything about it, even if I wanted to. I'm only a few years older than you. By human standards, I'm still a kid. Just, like, you. On top of that, my family was never in government to begin with, so I wouldn't have a say in how my people did their thing out here anyway." Joshua leaned forward. He kissed her on the forehead. "But trust me, if I could, I would've helped you and your family. I would've helped the people here."
The dragoness gaped stupidly at him. Indecision shimmered in her eyes. Her jaw fell ajar, and Joshua sensed the tumult storming within. Please, he prayed. Please, please, please, don't… don't reject me. Her scales glinted in the light as she squirmed, she fidgeted. Her wing spread itself a little. Spyro raised his voice—to him, to her, or to someone else, he didn't know—yet the fanboy couldn't bring himself to care. He tuned out his favorite video game hero and zeroed in on the child's eyes again—he drowned in them, lost himself in that diffident gaze, waiting. Waiting for a reply. A word, an action, anything.
Anything that clearly demonstrated Kilat's opinion of him. What little skill Joshua gained from the scant usage of the Unknown Element tempted him to extend his ego boundaries and dive in. To plunge into her pulse of life—her very soul and feel what she was feeling, make sense of the emotions crashing into each other. The thought itself appalled him.
Yet…
If the little girl rejected him, if she judged him for the perceived sins of his species… Joshua didn't know what he would do. I… I-I, I can't even—
Then Kilat dove at him, the dear reptile nuzzling his chest.
Joshua Renalia had no idea what to say. It was one of those rare moments he found himself speechless at such an endearing gesture. Instinct moved him to respond with an embrace of his own. His smile widened when he realized his left arm rose a little, in a futile attempt to correct the one-armed hug. Crisis averted. Thank f*cking God. Someone must be watching him up there!
He saw a rhynoc approach him. Joshua's eyes lingered on the thick robe it donned. Stitched on it was the circle of the four Elements. An image identifiable by any TLoS fan worth their mettle. But with the clothing sporting an otherwise bland design and neutral earthen hues, the teenager figured this was one of the Temple's employed servants. An unbelievable fact, considering Joshua knew them as enemies in Spyro: Year of the Dragon.
If it wasn't already obvious, seeing how this rhynoc had the water he requested.
Water.
Oh shit. That was one reminder he did not need right now. Hopefully he still had some time left to make up convincing bullshit for a solid defense. That wind dragoness had hurled one of the toughest questions he had to face, and when he asked for a short break, everyone felt disappointed at the delay. Their pulses of life indicated such. Joshua couldn't afford to disappoint them the next time he spoke.
He took the empty cup as soon as the rhynoc servant presented it to him. Joshua voiced his appreciation as soon as he began pouring water into it. "Thank you. I really needed something to drink." He took a sip. "This hearing's been—
Joshua nearly choked from the crushing pressure suddenly radiating from the Purple Dragon. "That's why?" he cried. "That's why you didn't help?"
"Didn't you hear me the first time? I don't like repeating myself."
Spyro snarled. He scared Kilat into curling in on Joshua, shivering madly. What—who was pissing him off so much? He turned to the Observers' Box. There, the Wind Dragoness-bitch faced down the Legendary Savior, who pawed closer to her. His posture as menacing as his growls. "I heard you clearly the first time, Skydancer." Joshua never heard anyone say a name with such disgust and disdain until today, not even on Earth. "You didn't do anything because it wasn't your business. You all knew—you all saw what was happening on the ground—to other dragons—and Ancestors, you all did nothing! Nothing! When the Apes started taking other sky islands, you still did nothing! Weren't you even the least bit afraid of losing your empire during the War?"
"Of course not," Skydancer snorted. Joshua was stunned. She had just dismissed the prospect as if it was nonexistent to begin with. "The Dark Master was never a threat. Skylands can become nothing in the blink of an eye, and it is impossible to conquer nothing."
While Joshua found himself perplexed by the statement, Spyro noted her confidence—her arrogance and flared his wings. "Then you could have provided shelter! You could have approached Ignitus months before the Apes raided the old Temple. So many dragons could've been saved. All those eggs could've been saved!" His pulse of life quaked. Emotions spun around inside, turbulently spiraling into themselves. Joshua identified anger, disbelief, and—holy shit, was that grief? "Cynder and I, we, I, I-I…"
Then his vivid, purple scales turned dark. Joshua gasped. He clenched his fists. A fear he had not felt since his admission into Warfang's borders flickered in his heart. But it lasted only a moment. For Spyro quickly caught himself and, with a deep breath, exhaled. He literally sighed his anger away. His life signature had gone still, the sphere no longer swirling, turned small and warm and blue—a simmering melancholy. It seemed nobody noticed the change in him. Joshua did not even see the white glow fading away from his own hands.
"I think your Empress could've done so much good," Spyro finally said. "If she intervened."
"I wouldn't be so naïve to presume that, my Savior." Skydancer's words felt sarcastic. She stood on her haunches and sent down a patronizing gaze. "Purple Dragon or not, the world does not work the way you think it does and it never will." Then the bitch turned to Joshua, her ashen snout all smug. "Isn't that right, Joshua Renalia? Skylands was not the only one that stayed away from the War. Youhumans could've changed everything, too. But you did nothing. Just like us."
Damn her! Joshua wished he could lash out from his spot. The urge to deny her compelled him to stand and give the white dragoness a defiant glare. We're nothing like you! He wanted to say. We would've found a way to help! Even if his homeland refused to help the dragons, had the United States of America existed in this world, they surely would've done something. They were the world's policemen. The Grand Mediator, always butting its nose into each and every atrocity and act of oppression by other nations worldwide, and, he believed, always for the betterment of humanity.
The human did not get a chance to talk.
"Order," thundered Terrador. "Order!" Joshua sensed the Guardian's power saturate the cut, granite stones and, for an instant, infuse its essence into the very foundations of the Warfang Temple. The structure itself shook. It shuddered, releasing a raucous grumble that left many unsuspecting members of the Court off-balanced, but also stupefied Spyro, Skydancer, and Joshua in one swoop.
Terrador scolded, "Spyro, we are not here to discuss Skylands' foreign policy or quarrel with one of their envoys."
"Yes, Terrador." Spyro bowed his head in shame.
"Master Terrador," Cyril interjected. "Do not forget, you still have a lot to learn from all of us."
The Earth Guardian nodded in agreement. "Indeed. Now follow proper decorum. Speak out of order one more time, and we will cast you out." At the words, Terrador threw a mean frown at Spyro. Joshua looked through him and saw the reluctance hiding deep within his pulse of life. Dude, he was good. "Do you understand me?"
The Purple Dragon took longer than expected to reply. "I understand, Master Terrador."
He glared at the Wind Dragoness. "Skydancer, the disrespect you've shown to Spyro andJoshua reflects poorly on your character. Stop it. I don't care if we are on break. Remember, you are here on our diplomatic goodwill."
Skydancer stiffened. Her life signature shrunk, responding to her fear of the implications. She bowed. "Yes, Master Terrador. I have your neck."
"You better," He nodded. "Do you have anything else to say?" Terrador's eyes darted at Joshua. "If not, we can resume the hearing. Joshua appears ready."
"One last thing," She said. Silence permitting her the floor, "Spyro, I know how strongly you feel about the Empress and the choices she took during the War. As her envoy, you are welcome to approach me for dialogue any time." Her dark blue eyes twinkled. "Provided you are accompanied by one of the Guardians."
The Purple Dragon scowled at her, before returning to his mate. (Shit, Cynder looked like a sniveling mess.) "Count on it."
And here we go again.
Terrador wasted no time getting into it. He reiterated the objective of this hearing, that the three of them—the Guardians—arranged this thing to investigate Joshua's background and learn more about the human species. One nod of the jaw at Volteer, and the Electric Guardian straightened and rehashed the key points discovered before the short break.
Volteer being the scholar that he was, he spent another three minutes or so on his review. His comments were neutral. Humanity could change the dynamics of the Realms forever. They could further science and technology, improve Warfang's economy, and increase population diversity, in one fell swoop. "They are like slipstreams, leading to the horizon. Who knows what will happen if we let them carry our wings? The potential benefits of cooperation are unquantifiable!"
Just as Volteer began explaining the 'long-distance scrying glass', Cyril interrupted him. They presented enormous risk, he said. Joshua's narrative had the Court believe humanity spied on them for years and years.
"Their military power must be formidable," the Ice Guardian hypothesized, "if they can create something like that." He glared at the only human in the room. "I suspect Joshua cannot help us there. He does not feel like someone who holds a position equivalent to Councilors or Guardians."
Terrador sprung from this point. "Even so, we must rely on him. Joshua is human, hatched and reared. While it is impossible for us to gleam anything specific from him, we can at least expect just enough to profile the landscape."
Another round of nods from Volteer and Cyril. The Councilors said nothing. Cynder… Cynder wasn't in the Observers' Box. Joshua saw the black dragoness walking away, surreptitiously vacating the room. A glowing dragonfly trailed right behind her, his furtive glances directed at his brother.
Spyro nodded at Sparx. Other than that, he and Skydancer were equally silent.
"Joshua?"
"I'm coming." He rubbed Kilat's head. "Head back to the Observers' Box," he whispered to her. "We'll talk later, okay?"
"Okay." The child nuzzled his cheek and obeyed him without fuss.
Joshua chugged whatever remained in the cup. He steeled himself as he approached the stone steps and faced the Guardians sitting high on their pedestals. There was no doubt in the gamer's mind that he had to lie again. He locked eyes with Spyro. If he had to sway someone in this room, it must be him, personal feelings be damned.
Cyril addressed him, "We've waited long enough. Why didn't the human species intervene when our worlds were under threat of being torn asunder by Malefor and the Destroyer? Speaking in my professional capacity as an esteemed Guardian of the Realms, you furless apes had so little to lose and so much to gain. I admit reading the ebbs and flows of the world's airstreams is not my strength, but even I can see the Realms would have been a much better place had you cast off the shell of anonymity and joined us during our darkest years."
"Master Cyril," Joshua said. "Sir." Oh, look at him beam. His ego must have ballooned some more after the simple formality. "I'm sorry to say this—I'm really, really sorry, and I hope you can forgive me—
The Ice Dragon destroyed his momentum. "Answer me, human. Stop stalling for time and answer us! Uncertainty obfuscates your people's nature and only your response can clear this fog."
Joshua blanked. Oh shit. Without warning, the words in his mind absconded. They were still there, he knew, somewhere beyond his reach. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh f*cking shit! His attention rushed inward, seeking his memory for the arguments that were certainly there. The lookup stubbornly resisted him, unable to make sense of the disorganized crapton of information and ideas.
"Uhm, uhhh, errr…"
C'mon, man, c'mon, you gotta remember! F*cking Cyril, interrupting me like that. Joshua chased after the lost train. What was he about to say? Why did he qualify it with apologies? Was it something that had the greatest chance of swaying Spyro? Was it something that would offend the three Guardians as a group? The Warfang Council? Or was it something that would infuriate the snooty, egotistical narcissist in front of him?
"Well?" Cyril interrupted him. He growled. "What is your answer?" He scoffed. "Do you even have one? We gave you a long enough break. By now, even the Ancestors' hatchlings would have started soaring in the skies."
"How about no?"
The Guardian bared his teeth. "No? You damned Ape, you're not in a position to—
"I mean you're wrong!" Joshua cut him off. Finally retrieved it. He strengthened his mental grip; he couldn't afford stuttering now. "You don't know anything about my people! Jesus Christ, dude, humans still had too much to lose. We couldn't do anything to help you even if we wanted to. It would've been too costly!"
Economics.
That was the answer.
Economics was the answer he was looking for.
Economics solved everything.
Joshua didn't like resorting to such an… such an adult word. Grown-ups threw this shit around like it somehow justified humanity's concupiscence, explained the duality of good and evil on Earth, and condemned human pragmatism as ruthless and manipulative. Right now he didn't have much of a choice, since the Earth he remembered leaving behind was an Earth caught in a crisis of its own making.
An inconvenient truth, behind the glory of Western capitalism.
"Too costly?" Cyril uttered, dumbfounded. "We were on the eve of extinction! If Spyro and Cynder hadn't returned to us in time, the Realms as we know it would've been completely destroyed! Your reluctance is no less inexcusable and abhorrent than abstinence."
"No, it's not! Didn't you hear me earlier? My people don't know about you guys. Those who do, they keep it secret or are discredited so much nobody would ever believe them! If I had some coin to place bets with, I would wager the vast majority of humanity still thinks they're the only intelligent life around here."
Play the isolation card. Follow it up with an oversight cantrip, and toss out some culture as the finishing blow.
"They don't know a f*cking thing! Rabbits, cheetahs, moles, bears… where I lived, none of them walk and talk the way they do here. We don't have gnorcs. We don't have rhynocs. We don't have dragons or magic or all that other shit! Jesus-Mary-Joseph, I keep telling y'all, humans are so far away that—
A rumble from Terrador quieted him. "We have maps of the known world in our possession. All fifteen revisions in the Temple Library. Volteer, please call in Councilor Kaufer. You know he always keeps the latest copy on his person." The dragon locked eyes with Joshua as he rose to his feet and descended the giant stairs with authority. "Let's put this matter to rest once and for all."
F*ck me. This is juuuuuust great.
"Kaufer," Volteer yelled. "Councilor Kaufer! Come here. We need your immediate assistance and succor."
A bear broke off from the crowds. A well-dressed grizzly bear. Its glossy robes were familiar, a beautiful combination of royal blue and a most regal purple. Emphasizing the silver tips on its lush brown fur, the clothing must have been as expensive as they appeared. Epiphany struck Joshua. Oh my god. Seriously? SERIOUSLY? Could he—
"Clear skies," interrupted the anthropomorphic mammal. A male voice. He then gave a quick bow. The phrase and apparent genuflection befuddled Joshua. Silence hung between him and the Councilor. Uhhh, was he supposed to say something?
The bear shook his head and sighed. "You were supposed to say 'steady winds'. Then again," he said, with a condescending glimmer in his eyes, "in the midst of my customary welcome I forgot you are a foreigner, flapping about like fish out of water."
Joshua didn't like this guy.
"No matter," spoke the bear dismissively. (Yeah, he really didn't like this guy.) Furry paws brushed down his robes as though it was dirty. "Salutations, hoo-man. I am Spinel Kaufer, Councilor of Finance and Industry. I am very pleased to meet you."
To Joshua's surprise, the Councilor raised his paw. Holy shit, he shook hands as a greeting! Oh man, it felt so nostalgic. Hell, the gamer was so familiar with the greeting that Joshua's hand automatically clasped the tendered paw and gave it a firm squeeze. "Nice to meet you too," flowed his unconscious words.
Spinel blinked. "My, this is a delightful surprise. I never expected another species to share my people's customs. Even your response—
"Ehem," Terrador cleared his throat. "Sorry to cut the pleasantries short, Moneybags, but Joshua needs to see your map."
It was Moneybags! Joshua totally called it. Goddammit, the conniving bastard of a bear filching Classic Spyro in every single f*cking game since Ripto's Rage? He's here? In true Warfang?
Damn. This was not something he expected.
Joshua's poker face cracked a little, but Terrador's closeness was an easy, if not blatant, reminder of his present situation.
"Of course, Master Terrador," said the Councilor. "I hope you realize, I don't go by that name anymore." Dude, he even had the British accent from the games! WHAT THE F*CK.
Terrador laughed. It was deafening, coming from him. "Aaahhh, Forgive me," he said. "Old names tend to fly a little longer than they should."
The old bear fished into a pouch he carried with him. "I stepped down as Guildmaster of Gilded Wings a few months ago, after I was appointed Councilor." Joshua saw how full it was. He caught a few glimpses of denominated, gem-studded coins and folded documents as Spinel—as Moneybags dug into the paperwork for a few more seconds.
"A few months, you say? Hmm, that is not enough time for ancient dragons like myself, Kaufer."
The bear frowned. "I already reminded—Ah!" His round, furry muzzle lit up. "Found it." He clutched a thick piece of parchment in his hands, folded multiple times over itself. "The full map of the Dragon Realms," he said, prideful. "Nineteenth revision, second copy. Illustrated just this morning."
Nineteenth? Heh, looks like Terrador doesn't keep tabs of everything going on here.
Terrador recovered quickly. "Kaufer, spread it out on the floor," he instructed. "Joshua, come over here. Do you recognize anything?"
Moneybags—no, there's no way in hell he would use his other name, whatever the f*ck that was—held the tip of the parchment in his dexterous fingers. It glowed. Two smooth whipping motions later undid the folds. He moved with fluid precision, with a practiced grace, to lay down the huge map in one act. Before Joshua knew it, he found himself eyeing a monstrosity no smaller than a fifty square foot, well, square. Five paces in length and width, Warfang's map was what Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III's map would have looked like if he wasn't incrementally clipping sheets of paper and guided his pencil with colorful aesthetics, not function, in mind.
It had an ornate design lining the edge of the entire document. Closer scrutiny yielded the crude image of an Eastern dragon gnawing its tail. Art reminiscent of lattices—or better, Henna patterns—lined the outer border, while symbols of all the Elements known to dragonkind formed an inner border. Not only did the human find it beautiful, but Joshua also recognized a paltry total of five. Fire, Lightning, Ice, Earth, and Convexity. (Æther sounded too clichéd. Sorry, Jared.)
There were four land masses depicted on the map. Four continents. Three were Brobdingnagian in size. Joshua wouldn't have recognized Warfang if it wasn't close to the center of one continent and he wasn't already familiar with the official TLoS map—it made it so much easier to identify the coastal line of the great bay at the south side of the walls. The Gulf of Dragons, they called it. Fitting, considering Warfang had long been labeled "City of Dragons".
Eyes drifted up, down, up, and over the entirety of the main continent. Some of its names were known to him. The floating islands of Tall Plains, to the northwest. The crystal ridges of Concurrent Skies, far north. To the southwest of Warfang, across the calm seas of Aequus Belt, was the Volcanic Island Munitions Forge. Farther south still were the raging waves of Tempest Deeps, but the map ended there. Joshua found a frozen land southeast of Munitions Forge. Whoever made the maps called a small part of it Dante's Freezer. Beyond it, the land suddenly ended as though some divine entity cropped out the rest and replaced it with an ocean. White Abyss. A portentous name.
Centering his gaze again on Warfang, he moved his eyes eastward. He saw the Dry Canyon, bifurcating Summer Forest and Sunburst Woods. So that's where I woke up, mused Joshua Renalia. He made a mental note to revisit the place after regaining his freedom. It may hold a few clues to his journey home. It was huge though. Three times larger than Summer Forest. Knowing his luck, he would be there for several days. Hopefully by then I'll have a few friends willing to join me.
He looked eastward. Sunburst Woods became the Blackstone Pass. It led to the Blackstone Mountains, a mountain range that dwarfed Sunburst Woods and held the fortress city Aldozira deep within. Joshua found something familiar about the name. He ran it twice in his head. Aldozira. It was strange. The name failed to register anything he knew about the Spyro games, or pop culture for that matter. Did he hear it before?
Beyond Castle Shadowstone, the easternmost tip of this continent—far beyond it, was the Skylands Empire. A floating continent. The map went as far as documenting the six thousand wingspans that separated Skylands from the Empty Sea directly beneath. Six thousand. Joshua could not even fathom the distance. How did that translate to the metric system? Fifty kilometers? Sixty? Seventy? Maybe more?
Joshua Renalia kept ogling the map. Not all the continents were as fleshed out as he expected. There were large swathes of hollow, unfilled areas, suggesting more exploration was required. Still, just looking at the map accentuated the reality of his situation. He was nowhere near home. He was not on a parallel world. He was not on an alternate Earth. He was on a different planet entirely, one he was beginning to think was significantly larger in mass than Earth itself. Joshua's breathing started to quicken. Water gathered in his eyes. He didn't realize he had clasped a hand over his mouth until Terrador nudged him with a knuckle.
"Joshua? Did you hear me?"
"H-huh?" the human stammered. "W-w-what? Did you say something?"
The Guardian grumbled. "Does anything there look familiar to you?"
Joshua focused on the World Map again. Unconsciously, he shook his head. The other two continents were land masses. Neither resembled anything from his Earth. One looked like a gargantuan rectangle—like the map of Westeros—and the other would've made Joshua laugh, if he wasn't already disconcerted by the unsettling miasma in his thoughts. To the right of Skylands, the last continent on the Dragon Realms had a phallic shape to it. If that was not God flipping the bird at him, he didn't know what else to say. It really looked like a massive middle finger.
"Money—
The Councilor of Finance and Industry glowered, straightening his back, scowling, and looking ever like the hulky bear he actually was. Moneybags could be intimidating. Who knew?
Joshua coughed. "Councilor, do the borders on the map mean anything?"
Moneybags dismissed his scowl in an instant and supplied, "Yes, yes, they do. They simply indicate that explorers of the Dragon Realms have not found anything beyond this point. The environment close to these borders are either calamitous in nature or as endless as it is lifeless. Both, absolutely devastating for any expedition."
"…I don't see the White Isle here."
"That's because it has not been discovered."
"But Spyro—
"By Spyro's account, it lies past the southern border, deep within the storms of Tempest Deeps. But the White Isle is also a place of myth and legend. Spyro is also just one dragon—a Purple Dragon at that."
"So?"
"So we cannot discount the possibility that the Chronicler's domain exists outside this reality and beyond the reach of any normal person in the Realms."
Joshua Renalia could not hide the crestfallen tone in his voice. "Then that's that," his reply concluded. "None of it's familiar to me. As a matter of fact, human geographers identified six continents in my world map."
"…Did you just say six continents?" Moneybags bowled over.
"Yes. Africa, America, Antarctica, Asia, Australia, and Europe."
Terrador regarded Joshua. His sphere of life rippled with an emotion he never sensed in Terrador before. "None of those are familiar to me."
Moneybags stared at the young man. He felt uneasy. "Then that means…"
"As you deduced, Joshua hails beyond the borders of the known world, so his reasons are undeniably true." He rose, then bowed to the well-dressed bear. "Thank you, Mo—Councilor Kaufer. Please clean this up and return to the Observers' Box."
He beamed at the dragon's self-correction. "You are most welcome, Master Terrador." Joshua cringed; it sounded so patronizing to him. Jesus, he prayed that wasn't his bias acting up. Moneybags went to one corner of the giant map. He noticed the document glowing just as the bear began folding it up.
"Joshua," commanded the Earth Guardian. "Return to your place. I will pass my findings to the Court and we will proceed with the hearing."
Passing his findings did not take long. Terrador went back to his pedestal and engaged in "quiet" discussions with Volteer and Cyril. Quiet in the sense only Joshua's augmented hearing enabled him to follow their private deliberation. Equally, murmuring occurred the moment Moneybags returned to the Observers' Box. Naturally, the other Councilors pounced on him and sought information.
Another two or three minutes lapsed. The foundations of the audience chamber trembled at Terrador's power, signifying that deliberations have ended. Terrador announced Joshua had been honest with his response. Then he tossed out the political bombshell of his origins outside Warfang's maps. Volteer then reminded everyone the significance of this, as there were good reasons why nobody had gone past the borders before. Joshua Renalia was living proof of life in the Realms beyond, the Electric Guardian emphasized. It was such a shame Joshua could not remember how he got there.
Recalcitrant, Cyril remained an asshole to the very end. "I must admit, Joshua's origins are remarkable and fascinating, and there is much to learn about his side of the world. Nonetheless," he fought, "these details fail to explain anything about human behavior in general. For all I know—for all we know, those furless apes are just like the people of Skylands. Even if they had economic methods of travel to our side of the Dragon Realms, they wouldn't stick their necks out to help those in dire need of aid. They would have shied away from the War, just like them."
"Dude, no!" Joshua pushed back. "Just no! Some humans would have helped you anyway. We can't stand it if we know horrible things are taking place on the other side of the world when we can actually do something about it! There's no f*cking way in hell we'd ever let shit like that happen unchallenged, every step of the way."
"Some? Not all?"
Oh f*ck! Cyril had to have caught it. Ugh, he had to explain this part, too?
"How do I say this?" Joshua scratched his head. "I, I'm not going to lie. There are many humans who start fights or kill others over trivial stuff. Like skin color, looks, religion… even toys! They endanger nature or other people just to take what they want. They shirk responsibility or compassion when it's inconvenient, when it's difficult, when there's nothing in it for them. A lot of humans are as selfish and apathetic and violent as you think they are, and these are the same people who will never lend you guys any help unless it benefits them.
But at the same time, there are many humans—just as many as the shitbags—who will look past all those things and accept people for who they are, not how they look like, not whether they believe in their ancestors or a higher power, and definitely not what species they are. These humans would do everything they can to protect nature or cooperate with others. They will accept responsibility and perform it for everyone's benefit no matter the personal cost. Sure, these humans can be messy, awkward, but these are people who want to assist the small and the helpless and for sure they would have helped you unconditionally during the War, without hesitation."
Volteer exclaimed, "That doesn't make any sense!" He shook his head back and forth, mind working in a flurry to comprehend what he just said. "You're telling us humans are equally selfish and selfless, equally merciless and kindhearted, and equally disgraceful and honorable. I cannot possibly envisage, imagine, picture your species getting anything done—let alone electricity-powered, long-distance scrying glasses—when the description you just provided leaves me with the impression humankind would waste as much time and effort fighting each other over insignificant, meaningless, unimportant, trifling subjects as you would over affairs of substantial, world-changing value."
Joshua whistled. "And thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat's humanity for you, Volteer. It doesn't make any sense to me either, but at the very least, our leaders are generally people who managed to find a delicate balance between both sides on every contested problem, big or small. I don't know what else to tell you."
The Electric Guardian had such a baffled expression on his muzzle it appeared his brain got stuck trying to process this reality. Spyro, on the other hand, looked like he was deep in thought.
Eventually someone had to break the heavy silence. "Volteer, would you consider," Terrador postured, "the possibility that humankind is a species of contradiction as much as it is a species of invention?"
"I—I'm not—Well—err… Perhaps. But I think this… this warrants, needs, requires, entails further investigation, research, sociological analysis," he stammered. "The descriptors you propounded are illogical to me. I cannot reconcile them—
"Thank you, but that is fine for now. We will revisit matters of profiling and classification later. More importantly"—the acting leader of the Guardians brought his intent gaze down upon Joshua—"I have a simple question for our human guest."
"...Yes?"
"If we ever encounter more people of your kind, what do you think is the best way we can establish a friendly relationship with them?"
He should've expected this by now, Joshua thought. Terrador displayed a consistent focus on the reality before him. He did not get lost in the particulars of taxonomy or achievements. He did not dwell on irrelevant details. So far he had been addressing Joshua from the perspective of a servant leader. Of a just leader, concerned with both the safety and welfare of his people and the lofty ideals of justice and fairness. Joshua wouldn't be surprised if Ignitus read this entry in Terrador's book with a wide and proud smile.
"That won't be too hard. I actually think it's simple. Ridiculously simple," Joshua answered him. "See, humans are a naturally curious species. We are attracted to new things. We crave new experiences. We would try things—do things we've never done before. Our curiosity is so strong, it could override our fear of the unknown. There's no doubt in my mind you'd win over thousands of people if you showed off the good stuff you guys have to offer. I mean, I haven't even been here for a week and what little I've seen of your culture is so different, so weird, that I think it's really interesting! If I wasn't stuck in my room, I'd be out there exploring the city."
"And if that doesn't work, you can always appeal to our greed instead and trade with us. There's bound to be something we'll trade our tech for. Economics never fails. It drives almost every advancement in human society."
Joshua observed Moneybags smirking at that. Figures. That's right up your alley, isn't it?
"I see," Terrador nodded. His brows relaxed, and lips unfolded a little. "That information will certainly be useful." The Earth Guardian paused, gaze panning across the audience chamber. "Is there anything else you'd like to add?"
"No, not at all. Unless you want me to talk about myself, personally?"
"That won't be necessary, Joshua. It's irrelevant to this hearing."
The gamer bowed his head, "Thank you, Terrador." He glanced at Spyro. "I'm sorry for the disrespect I've shown to this Court."
Cyril snapped at him, "Just make sure it does not happen again the next time we bring you to this chamber."
Terrador added, his voice stern and authoritative. "You're not required to adhere to our standards of formality, but at least show some respect. We demand it."
"Understood."
The foundations once again quaked in the wake of his power. "Everyone!" declared Terrador. "This hearing is adjourned. Except for Spyro, my fellow Guardians, and Councilors Kaufer and Tuconsis, you are all free to go."
As soon as he pronounced the hearing over, the stillness in the air shattered. All the Warfang Councilors, save for Moneybags and a scarred gnorc, rose from their seats (or haunches, if they were dragons) erupted into whispers and murmurs even as they grouped up among their own friends and departed the audience chamber using either the public exit behind him or the private hallway beside the Observers' Box.
Despite Joshua's enhanced hearing, his attention span—his focus could only catch so much. Still, what little he discerned from the noise confirmed his win, his victory. He won his self-imposed challenge; the Councilors took everything he said like a duck to water, hook, line, and sinker. His mix of truth and lies satisfied their curiosity, but not to the extent they could put two and two together and divine the truth. Many of them launched speculations at each other, trying to forecast—to project the sweeping changes the integration of humankind would surely bring into the known world…
If it happened at all, that was.
Having seen the world map for himself, Joshua figured the Court knew any attempt at bridging the gap between the Realms and humanity's side of the world was a long shot. Only the gamer knew how long the long shot was, and boy, it was depressing to think about it. Let's not head that way, shall we?
Volteer stepped off his pedestal and leaned over to the nearest guard. He whispered, "Go fetch Cynder and Sparx."
Unlike Joshua, the twin rhynoc guards assigned to him did not hear a thing. They moved to flank the human as they have done when they picked him up from his little room. Kilat, while free to live anywhere in the Temple, vaulted off the railing and strolled over to join them. They smiled at each other, but Joshua felt her sphere of life shivering as she approached. It was sad, realizing the divide his "revelations" wrought between the two of them. With a silent prayer to God Almighty, Joshua hoped this rift wouldn't widen more going forward.
"Terrador! Master Terrador!" Skydancer trotted towards the stone stairs. She gave the departing human a fleeting glance.
"What is it, Skydancer?"
"Am I dismissed too? I want to join the post-hearing evaluation." Joshua felt a ripple in her signature, and it showed in her submissive tone. "Your assessment on humanity—
"Warfang's affairs are none of your business," Cyril shut her down. "Know your place, foreigner."
"I hope you remember my position, Gromble." Oh God. He shouldn't have called Cyril that. Damn it. Joshua felt the old dragon staring at his back as his small entourage reached the public exit.
Volteer proposed, "Cyril, I suggest we let her stay. The Sky Empress would throw a fit if she felt we mistreated or humiliated her senior envoy."
"She brought that upon herself! This, t-this Skylander insulted Spyro and disparaged the dignity of our Court. I will not stand for it!"
"Terrador, what are your thoughts, judgments, outlooks, opinions, views on this matter?"
Now out of earshot, Joshua never got a chance to hear the Earth Guardian's reply.
The public hallway consisted of a long, partially open colonnade that ran across the side of the Warfang Temple for a few hundred meters (by Joshua's best estimate) before the path split. The open side of the colonnade granted a beautiful view not only of the botanic gardens and the training grounds but also some of the luxurious villas that surrounded the great hill on which the Temple was built.
Joshua knelt and swept Kilat off her paws, causing her to yelp. He hugged the dragoness, tracing tiny circles on her pawpads. "Joshua, warn me next time, okay?" She whined. "You keep forgetting…"
"Sorry, Kilat," he apologized. He leaned forward and found comfort in her lavender scent. "It's just that, that… it was hard for me." He rubbed the back of her head with his nose and directed a forlorn gaze at the City of Dragons.
Kilat creaked her head up and returned the gesture. He felt contentment in her sphere of life. "Me too," she said, after a pause.
Neither of them spoke for a while. Joshua stopped when the path finally broke off in two. One direction descended the Temple further, leading down to the city below. The other went inward, into the bedrock. The living floors were in that direction.
Joshua walked over to the top of the steps. Aware of his two silent "babysitters", he did not dare take the first step down. From his vantage point, he observed the resident dragons loitering far below, spending time however they wished. Some were playing with each other. Some were practicing their mastery over their respective Elements. A few were in isolated corners, nuzzling each other like the lovers they probably were. Closer scrutiny would have revealed the guards keeping the peace and order.
"Still," Joshua muttered, "I suppose... that didn't go as bad as I thought it would. Nobody tried to kill me back there, and it doesn't seem like they hate me after, after all that."
Kilat giggled, "Heehee, don't worry! I don't know about other humans, but I do know you. Sooner or later they'll see you the way I do: a wonderful brother."
The adolescent smiled. "You make an awesome sister, you know that?"
"I do." Her wing drooped slightly. "...Lani once told me the same thing, a long time ago."
Kilat's answer haunted Joshua for days.
Author's Note:
And Background Check is over. Another snip down! Coming up next… definitely will be something short and lighthearted. :D
So about this snip. Originally, I intended for Joshua to delve into humanity's arsenal of weapons. But as I wrote the snip, I began thinking about the feasibility of him even bringing it up, and the plan became less realistic the more I wrote. I mean, think about it, our military technology is unparalleled. Our weapons can devastate entire landscapes. We have stuff that can penetrate the toughest armors. We have technology that don't even need to pierce armor or inflict open wounds to kill people (hello radiation, acoustics, and microwaves!). I was going to use it to follow-up with the culture of contradiction/compromise thing and add another reason why meeting possibly xenophobic humans would be so dangerous to whoever's part of the expedition.
Still, I guess the way this snip turned out was appropriate.
On that note, the ending went a little differently. I wanted to cut it off right as Joshua exited the audience chamber. He would've said "I guess that wasn't so bad" and that was it. But… ehh… it was nice to throw in a little bit of bonding, to show how strong their surrogate-sibling relationship was.
Anyway… moving on.
Any snip or other suggestions are welcome. Just send me a PM. Again, if you want me to feature one of your OCs, feel free to PM me for a discussion. If it passes initial screening, I'll have you fill out a template for further screening and deliberation. Don't feel bad if I end up denying an application just because I couldn't find a use for the OC. It happens.
Proceeding to replies to reviews from the last chapter:
Zero (guest): Dude, I like how you increase my review count, but I'd really appreciate it if you could write something more substantial. The authors of all the other stories you're probably leaving reviews for would be grateful too. :D
Wretched Abyss: I went with "bullshit his way out of it". I hope my performance this chapter was convincing enough for you.
TheKingofGames1001: One's an emoji, the other's an acronym. orz is the small letters version of OTL. While FML is, well, "f*ck my life".
InfamousVenous: How's that for believability? Even if they make him draw all six or seven continents on Earth, there's no way they'll recognize it, and yet the level of detail he can give about all of them (courtesy of a globalized, internet-driven world) will compel them to believe him. XD
And so the truth remains hidden… but for how long? :P
Draykat: Yes, it will! The next snip or two will take place before Background Check and Glorified Peon. I have many more that take place after it. Actually, that reminds me, I'll have to start organizing my snips in (1) chronological order and (2) publishing order. XD
Merecor: At least they're reasonably long, but not so much. I don't even have to worry about pacing anymore since I can just jump around like it's usually done in the Loops.
Jason (guest): Oh no! No, he can't do that! They would freak out more about humanity itself, especially if he tells them what they're capable of, as you implied. Although I wonder if you noticed that little bit of Fourth Wall breaking there, where Joshua mused a little bit about the super-tiny possibility (lol) that he's just a character in a story on FFN. XD
Bizzleb: Oh, hey Bizzle! Glad to see you hear from you once again. Guess you're here to stay huh?
Anyway, this trial was a long time coming. This is really the first out of several, but we won't be seeing all of them. I don't want the story getting bogged down by unnecessary things. Still, you're right. Joshua just couldn't resist being a troll that time.
Joshua got out of this just fine actually. Background Check #1 and #2 take place before Glorified Peon #1. Still, the journey is better than the destination so it's all good. Plus, people are interested in seeing how he gets himself out of this shithole he dug for himself.
Kilat's battery of questions during the first story arc actually gave Joshua the idea that a fantastic but believable lie is so much better than an uneasy or insane truth. Doesn't exactly win him any favors, but the firefighting required is probably more manageable.
So what ideas do you have for Joshua? What would you have said?
Thanks again, dude. Hope to see you again for this chapter.
Djax80: He went with "lying through his ass". XD
GhostChris: And what did you think of this then?
Br2nd66: Not surprised. There aren't many good "human fic" stories for the Spyro fandom to begin with, and there are a ton of 'em to sort through. Still, I am happy you found this.
Server Lock: My story isn't so popular that I'd need to run a poll for the OC submission. I may have thought differently if I was getting something like 50 to 100 signedreviews per update, but I'm already satisfied with my current performance (which is currently at 400% of my other serialized fic). Don't worry though – I don't just accept submissions at face value.
Folwod: It's fine, dude. I'm glad that you had time to write feedback anyway. Much appreciated. :D
Baton793 (guest): It's not lulz anymore? ….ugh I feel so old.