Clockwork realm (AU) - Chpt 1, part 2: Pigmen are not very nice
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mindcrackloveYou guessed who yet? Also, other parts under the cut in order to reduce messiness. Though it wouldn't really even make much difference either way but it would still be rather long and annoying when you're scrolling past this.
Summary: Zisteau had a dream similar yet so different to many other zombie pigmen of his age. The similarities? He wanted to cover an overworld plains in lava. Nothing new. The differences? He didn't want to hurt the humans or anything even, for that matter. That was odd. When humans waged war against his kind, it is up to the teen to quell the rage of the pigmen and the sociopathic behaviors of humans and possibly fufil his wish?
Pairings: Nooooooooope.
Music: Play Homestuck - Karkat's Theme. Extended version by luminantAegis is more convenient. Just a suggestion though.
Other: They're teens. I'm not going to even bother commenting about how much I dislike mentioning this every part.
Story time! Or… look at the parts time?
~~~~~~~~~
Prompt: http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/415338.html
Prologue: http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/421192.html
Part 1: http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/426312.html
Part 2: You're currently on it, numbnuts!
Part 3: Just be patient and I shall bestow it upon you hopefully soon.
~~~~~~~~~
Zisteau was a little kid who just wanted to bathe in lava. In an overworldly plains. That wasn't odd for anyone, really. He talked about it with the other children. All of their eyes twinkled whenever he mentioned it.
He knew the twinkle in his eyes was different. No one questioned it because he was the soon-to-be monarch and they knew he probably had been to the overworld once or twice. The twinkle was more of "I-WANNA-RETURN-DAD-CAN-I-GO-BACK-no-son-you-cannot" twinkle.
And in that moment the whole word "twinkle" was nothing more than a very overused word.
His parents, uncles and aunts were dead and he wasn't of age to rule so his oldest cousin who was a female became Queen Dowager, Duchess of Fyorale. He wondered why her duchy's name sounded so awesome compared to the entire monarchy's name, Pigmania. That just sounded really silly.
He promised to himself to rename the sovereignty when he became throned. He did not have the power to do anything though he was crown prince and there was a dowager. He disliked the system. A lot.
~~~~~~~~~
Zisteau was a healthy eleven years old when he finally realised something.
He misjudged his cousins.
The oldest one, specifically. He was the youngest of everyone and thought all of them were picking on him.
Maybe the younger ones were, but still. They were all trying to prepare him to become King. He apologised to all of them.
The duchess had simply patted him on the head and gave him a lava bucket in an odd shape. Instead of the usual, round shape, it was jagged and made out of tiny iron blocks.
When he questioned about the odd bucket, her face took on an expression of confusion.
She replied, "I don't even know why it's like that myself, really. When I asked, the blacksmith just said circles were impossible to make and if he made right angles so tiny that we couldn't see it, it would give us the illusion that it was a circle. That blacksmith was never right in the head, I wondered why I even asked him."
"Asked him?" Zisteau echoed.
"I wanted to get a present for my own sister but I remembered she hates lava," she held up the bucket, "so I decided not to give it to her and keep it in case something happens where I need to use it. I already had my own bucket but it's smaller so. Uh. Yeah. I'm giving this to you."
She dropped the bucket on his head, "Hope ya like it, kiddo."
~~~~~~~~~
Zisteau never imagined he would say this but. He actually liked his cousin.
She was pretty cool. He once asked her why she had an odd spear sword thing for a weapon and she said it was because it could poke people with the stick end and do awesome things.
She then held the blade up in the air and spun it, creating an updraft that looked epic. She then swiftly and smoothly moved from the spinning to slashing the ground once, creating dust that blocked his view and after it cleared, she was in a pose that anyone would be jealous of.
He then knew why she chose that object as her weapon. "I'm calling it a scythe," she smiled fondly not towards him but her weapon.
Which lead him to his next point. She wasn't exactly sane either. She knew she was a something-path. Psychopath? Most something-paths included psychopaths in their definition. Sociopath? Possibly. Telepath? Zisteau actually believed she could do that but that was off point. Glidepath? She wasn't a runway come on.
This was – no, is – silly and is getting even more sillier by the second.
No one except the two of them knew about this. Even her sister didn't know, she said. She told him that if he ever told anyone of this, all hell would break loose. He thought it was ironic since they were living in hell itself.
He thought she would be prettier if she was a human. The green and pink just looked unnatural on her. So did her underbite.
He just sighed. She was an interesting yet confusing lady and not to mention Queen Dowager.
~~~~~~~~~
Zisteau was seventeen and was going to be eighteen in about two weeks.
Which meant the coronation was going to start. He was rather nervous – or would be, if not for his cousin comforting him with the fact that it was just another annoying ball that she forced him to attend and he had a golden hat on his head.
"Where is the slumgullion?" Zisteau watched from the prince's throne as she asked the female butler. The lady was spooked as the duchess had been approaching from behind.
Once she realised who the person was, she bowed deeply, "I apologise, may I inquire to what Her Majesty has asked of me?"
"Where is the slumgullion?" she repeated as patiently.
The butler questioned, "The stew or drink?"
The duchess replied a bit more impatiently, "Both." She then smiled a bit like "I know you're just stalling just spit it out already it's not like I can't exile you right now".
"The stew is being prepared by the chefs and the drinks are being stored in the wine cellar due to lack of space in the kitchen," the butler gulped a little and smiled back hesitantly.
The duchess spun around and walked in the direction of the wine cellar.
Zisteau wondered why the servants and maids were more disrespectful to her now. Maybe because she was going to be finally off the throne and the rightful King should take his place? Gee, he didn't realise his subjects were so… loyal? That was the word but… loyal to the customs. Yes, that was it.
He saw the duchess' younger sister walk in. She was barely younger than the lady herself. She was Marquise Berecyntia Genesis.
He decided to tell her about the… condition, that the Duchess of Fyorale was in. About her psychopathy, to put it more bluntly.
Genesis was rather shocked, to say the least. She was mumbling to herself that she knew something was amiss the day the darn pot hit her smack in the middle of her face.
She walked back out and Zisteau guessed she was probably going to get a doctor to check-up on the duchess after the coronation.
Zisteau was very amused and probably would have thought it would be for the better, if not for the fact the duchess said all hell would break loose. Why is he even focusing on that? And how did he even remember that particular sentence? She was goddamn insane, this was malarkey, Zisteau had to stop thinking, end thought.
Focusing on other things, a bird had flown into the castle. It was a carrier pigeon which meant the letter was from the humans. They only contacted if there were serious matters.
It flew towards him and dropped the letter on his lap and flew away.
He picked up the letter and read it, eyebrows knitted. As he read, his eyebrows slowly raised and his face got paler by the seconds. Once he was done, his eyebrows were nearly past his hairline and his face was the colour of a blank sheet of paper.
"To the ruler and the heir/ess apparent,
Us humans' supply of gold is short and scarce and you zombie pigmen have gold inside of you. We understand that the gold inside your bodies is an important part to your system and as such if it were to be removed even if it was surgically, you would be dead.
We also understand that zombie pigmen are okay with violence. Some of you embrace it, even.
From our information, it is in our best interests we have a war. Once our carrier pigeon has returned to the land of the living, we shall start sending troops to your dimension. Kindly ask your people to refrain from attacking back.
Signed by humans"
Zisteau slumped against his seat. Not a moment later, the duchess walked out of the kitchen, seemingly satisfied with whatever things she had inspected.
She noticed Zisteau and walked over.
"Oh, are you dead? It was quite early for you. I hope your death was painless. If it was, I'm sorry. Wait, you can't hear me. You're dead," she propped Zisteau up on his throne, "What a shame. Just before your coronation, too. The fellow could've killed you after you'd experienced how it feels like to be king. Why did you have to die while I was gone? I always miss out on the nice things. Like that one time my sister killed her first magma cube, I was away at blah blah blah…"
She was picking him up. Zisteau regained control of himself and he glared at the duchess. "Oh. You're alive. It's a Christmas miracle," her voice was laden with so much sarcasm Zisteau barely noticed how she used another made-up word. Christmas? What was that? He felt like it would snow in hell before he found out.
"Your face is suddenly so red. Wow. That was quick. I call hacks," she sounded slightly amused. Another made-up word. That was a first.
He growled, "The humans are calling goddamn war on us and you're still so calm? Have you not seen the letter that's on my goddamn lap?"
Everyone within hearing range including the male and female butler froze. Some of them dropped whatever they were holding.
The duchess calmly took her hands off Zisteau and looked straight into the female butler's eyes, "You remember the training? GO. ARRANGE EVERYONE," she pointed towards the ballroom.
The butler scurried off. The other one bowed and said, "I understand what to do, Your Majesty," and briskly walked to the servant's quarters.
The duchess turned around, walked towards the coat rack and took a cloak that Zisteau assumed was some random royalty's cloak they forgot to take back and either never noticed or didn't care. It had been there ever since he was born.
She took her scythe off her back and donned the cloak. She walked towards the door and pushed it open, proclaiming, "I am the Duchess of Fyorale and my purpose is to be the Queen Dowager!"
Zisteau was more than sure she was psychopathic and telepathic at that moment. He could see the pigmen starting to stream past the door and to the portal.
She rose her scythe towards the sky and disappeared. She was using magic to get to the surface. Goddamnit, why didn't she teach him? No one ever taught him the cool tricks.
The thought was pushed aside by the other matters at hand. He hurried to his room which held one of the three portals. There was one outside which was only activated on emergencies like this where all the zombie pigmen were headed towards and there was one in the ballroom…
Oh no. The manservants and maids. They were all properly trained to fight which meant they were better fighters than most other pigmen. He turned around to head towards the ballroom.
They were all lined up and in the armour Pigmania castle guards, knights, pages and squires would wear… if there were any, that is. It was a fanciful mix of pink and green on a backdrop of silver, designed by none other than the duchess herself.
He felt pride swelling up in his chest before it deflated away at the fact she was the one planning the attack on the humans.
He ran towards the female butler – where had the male one gone, anyway? – and clenched her shoulders tightly from behind. She tensed and whipped her head around, getting a faceful of hair in Zisteau's face.
Once she realised who it was, her eyes widened and she apologised profusely. Zisteau pursed his lips and spoke, "Do not go to the overworld."
She stopped in the middle of her apology and she said what he dreaded to hear, "I must apologise. We cannot do that, for it is the Queen's orders."
"Please don't. I'll convince the Board of Governers to sign the royal pardon. I really don't want all of you to go to the overworld," Zisteau pleaded.
It was her turn to purse her lips. She was thinking. He couldn't wait for much longer.
"I'm not very sure about tha-"
"Please," he stressed. He clenched her shoulders tightly, looking straight into her eyes.
She heaved a deep sigh, "Alright, Crown Prince. Just this once. But it's not like it will matter since you'll become the ruler of this entire consarned monarchy in two weeks."
His face brightened considerably and he let go of the butler. She briskly walked over to the manservants and maids to tell them of the change in plans. They shot nervous glances his way.
He straightened his back and lifted his chin – apparently that was the only vote of confidence they needed.
"If I may, may I request that all of you protect the castle in case my plan doesn't work?" Zisteau requested.
"It's not like we had anything else to do anyway- what? Are you overthrowing the Queen?" she asked disbelievingly.
Zisteau was alarmed, "No, it's not like tha-"
"I mean, none of us are against it, in fact we are all for it-"
"I'M TRYING TO- uh, concilate our kind and the humans," Zisteau started mumbling at the end.
A mix of doubt and worry crossed her youthful features, almost making her seem mature, "Are you sure you can do this? Alone?" It seemed as if she couldn't believe even if he had gone with someone, he could stop the war.
"Yes," he answered, trying to make it seem strong but it came out weak. He tried again, "Yes."
That was more like it.
Though he recieved well wishes from all the manservants, maids and of course the female butler, his outlook on the situation didn't really change all that much. He could only see gloominess and death for him and maybe for all.
Goddamn mind didn't want to focus on the good things, did it.
He walked back to his room, setting his hand on the doorknob. The portal was rather small and he wasn't sure he could fit through it anymore. It was a gift from his late father whom he couldn't recall at all.
He twisted the doorknob and stepped through the door.
"Turn back," a voice in his mind whispered urgently, "Maybe it's not too late! You can still live normally. Hang out with her after the war, maybe even talk to other aristocrats your age…"
He responded out loud since no one was there to hear him anyway, "Even if I did turn back… it's useless. She would be dead, I would become King of either this monarchy or slaves, everyone would bow before me and not treat me equally… to be honest, I'd rather die."
He could feel the voice slinking away in defeat. He wasn't sure where that thing came from. Maybe it was his cousin telling him not to go? That must be some powerful psychic bullshit she was pulling for it to reach the deepest depths in the underworld.
But seriously though why did no one teach him that stuff.
He put the lit obsidian crown on his head with more force than necessary, feeling resentful towards all the mages in his kingdom. He ought to get them exiled for not teaching him cool stuff.
He could feel the purple material stretch around him, pressing onto his skin. It was pleasantly warm yet cool at the same time. He could feel himself disappearing and reappearing. He remembered the other time he used this crown, he appeared in a waterfall's alcove. Was it still untouched? He didn't know.
He felt the object on his head expanding to fit the actual portal on the other side.
Zisteau was in the overworld. He felt the burst of cool air hit his skin. It was colder than he remembered. It was probably the tense atmosphere. He stepped out of the portal and slid on a slippery surface, sending him down a slide.
What was going on.
The slide twisted and turned in ways Zisteau thought couldn't be possible. He tried to put his hands on the sides to slow his descent but they were too slippery to get a good grip on. He didn't remember which was up and which was down until he was tossed into an actual alcove.
He got up and failed miserably the first time. After a few moments of self-deprecation he tried again and barely got up.
He flexed every part of his body to make sure it was still there. One of his uncles lost a toe to a portal and another one killed himself on the slide.
How are slides more dangerous than portals, I tell you? One is just for fun while the other is a dimension-hopping device, damnit.
"No more turning back now," Zisteau closed his eyes and muttered.
He looked up after inspecting the more important parts of his body was still there, in case the body part was somewhere else but he could still control it. Everything was fine and dandy. Almost even muscular but he didn't want to brag.
He saw the water cascading in front of his face. Two blurry figures were on the other side. One was approaching the other at a very fast speed. The other was clumsily wielding a bow and drew the string back, clearly aiming at the other one. He let go, arrow wobbling due to the archer's obvious inexpertise but struck the figure in the area around its heart just as it was about to sink its blade in the other figure's skull.
Zisteau could hear the dull clatter of the sword as the figure collapsed. He hoped it wasn't in the heart. But there was no use hoping. He would die of blood loss eventually unless there was a medic on the field which considering it was pigmen fighting, probably wouldn't be.
"First blood," he thought silently as many other shadows passed, most likely the fallen figure's comrades, trying to kill as many humans as they could. The archer looked panicked before running out of view.
He held the lava bucket the dowager gave him. Clutching it tightly, he hoped the lava wouldn't cool enough to the point where it wouldn't sedate his subjects.
He ran out into the fields, drenching the aforementioned field in lava. The bucket stored more than it looked like it would which was handy.
Everyone was startled for a moment. The pigmen were drowsy, it seemed. The humans were all skittering away from the lava.
It was a thin layer but it did the job. His people were all lying down in it. The humans were watching from a distance, archers not doing anything.
Speaking of archers, an archer seemed to be breathing a sigh of relief. Zisteau wondered why… sarcastically.
"I do not wish for our kinds to fight," he lifted his chin up towards the humans.
People started muttering, "They're a peaceful race? That's a surprise…" "Then, if they don't want to fight and our leader is brainwashed into thinking that the guy's products are 'divine' and it needs gold, a lot of it… who's driving the car?" and some others that the author is too lazy to think of and write out.
Insert the line from "Blue lips", "God, is this all, there is?" here.
Zisteau thought that this was rather easy and didn't have all the blood he expected. Remind him to never be a fortune teller.
Not like he could since he was the king, but still.
Zisteau saw a man in his late twenties dressed up more fancier than everyone else. Probably the leader he heard someone mutter.
The man walked to the front and said, "I humbly apologise for waging war against your kind."
Zisteau could hear a human saying, "Well, isn't he a suck-up." (Un)Fortunately, it didn't seem like their leader heard. Take note of the word "seem".
"Well, one of our kinds would become extinct if we actually fought…" he started mumbling at the end yet again.
He felt lava being splashed on him. Why did the duchess have to come at the wrong time.
It wasn't the thin layer of lava. It was her own goddamn bucket of lava.
After negotiations and such were done behind the scenes because I can't write that, Zisteau was being ushered back into the portal by happy citizens. They were praising him like, "SIRE YOU SHALL BE THE BEST KING THERE IS wait whoops I'm talking too loud", "you're like a fairy godmother except Zisteau version", "pardon my language but Zisteau high as fuck, granting childhood wishes and shit", "and I was like yooooooooo and the king was all like pouring lava on the field and I made a snow angel except it was lava yooooooooo" and many others that the author would totally write if she could think of them.
Zisteau was content with everything for once.
~~~~~~~~~
"I shall crown thee, King of Pigmania!" the once-dowager put the crown on Zisteau's head. Applauses rippled through the crowds.
"And I shall boot myself off the throne," she made a boot levitate and kicked herself off the seat. She picked up a flower basket laying beside her and tossed the flowers in the air.
The marquise stormed into the place and carried the duchess on her back. Her strength was rather unexpected since she looked like a fragile, delicate flower… but nevermind. Some flowers were poisonous, damnit.
"HEYO wait wait WAIT GENESISTER I can explain ZISTEAU DAMNIT WHY I mean like I can handle myself I'm not going apeshit crazy and killing everyone am I REALLY BERRYCYNTIA STOP…" she was too far for Zisteau to hear and the author is focusing on him therefore she shall stop this tomfoolery.
And then the boot the duchess used to kick herself flew in through the window. She never did stop levitating the boot, did she.
The festivities carried through the whole day and even past midnight. Zisteau was worn out from all the dancing with the ladies. They were all trying to get his attention to possibly have a chance to be a prospective bride.
They were pretty, but nah. None of them really caught his eye.
A mirror appeared in front of him while he sat on his bed. It reflected not him, but an odd male human that mirrored his actions. Everything else was the same. The bed, the wall and even the odd stalactite that he wasn't even sure could be considered a stalactite.
He reached out and touched the mirror, expecting it to be cold and hard. It was quite a shock when it rippled. Drawing his hand back with a gasp of surprise, he slowly reached out again.
It was lukewarm and a lot – no, too much like water. He leaned in and thought if it led to somewhere else…
Would it be worth it to abandon his life here as King? Just to go to an unknown land possibly filled with danger. The thought scared him as much as it excited him. Adventures would be had with a companion of sorts – possibly one he could interact with.
He reached in further. What if it just led to oblivion? Limbo or some odd universe. He would be lonely and sad.
He halted for a moment. All of a sudden, the mirror was pulling him in.
It was too fast for him to register what was happening. His entire body was pulled in in a matter of seconds.
The white that greeted him was blinding. He could feel at peace though.
He looked at himself. His body was fading. Starting from the toe. He didn't feel panicked. Just at peace. One with the world.
Once the fade reached his eyes, he saw the darkness as far as his eyes could see.
And he lost consciousness.
~~~~*Extra*~~~~
The timelord decided he would go to the point in time and decide for himself whether interfering directly or through the program was more fun- he meant efficient. Yes. Efficient.
The readers know what exactly he's looking for, really.
Turns out it was just as entertaining but much more miserably failing.
Really though. Why.
~~~~~~~~~
A piglady quickly swooped in to carry the fallen pigman to somewhere more peaceful, making sure not to be noticed amidst all the chaos.
She settled for the alcove after waiting for the soon-to-be King to rush out.
Pulling out a bandage from her pocket, she set to work. She removed the arrow as gently as she could and sewed the skin together.
"It's going to leave a nasty scar, isn't it…" she muttered while putting another shirt over the damaged shirt the pigman was wearing.
The male stirred. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw a female. "Phosphoros…?" he spoke raspily.
"Yes, it's me, Pathe. Why'd you leave the palace like that?" she questioned.
He laughed a little, "Way to ask me right after I wake up." He placed a hand over his stitches and winced. "Ow. I suppose I should thank you since you could have left me to die out there."
"I would if I could but Ivy wouldn't allow me to," she scoffed scathingly, "And if I actually did she would kill me."
"Good point," Pathe laughed. Phosphoros looked at him weirdly, "Your sense of humor is weird. Anyway, answer the question. It's basic courtesy to answer people when they ask. I wonder how you even managed to become a butler alongside me when you lack that certain aspect."
"Because you slipped up a little on commanding people," he smiled a bit deviously, "So we were equally good."
She bared her teeth a little and snarled, "Don't remind me of that incident."
"Heheh. Well, Lily-" he was cut short.
Phosphoros spoke, "Use her name in this part of time, damnit."
"Chthonia Berecyntia Genesis? That good enough?" the lady nodded grudgingly and he continued, "She did tell me to get the flint and steel but I thought that since you guys weren't going anyway, I might as well go headfirst into battle. She probably expected that since she's a time traveller, after all. So that's also probably why she made all the other pigmen's armour heavy."
She nodded in understanding, "Oh. Okay."
~~~~*End*~~~~
Trivia: Ivy's name here is Trivia Berecyntia Genesis. Heheh.
Summary: Zisteau had a dream similar yet so different to many other zombie pigmen of his age. The similarities? He wanted to cover an overworld plains in lava. Nothing new. The differences? He didn't want to hurt the humans or anything even, for that matter. That was odd. When humans waged war against his kind, it is up to the teen to quell the rage of the pigmen and the sociopathic behaviors of humans and possibly fufil his wish?
Pairings: Nooooooooope.
Music: Play Homestuck - Karkat's Theme. Extended version by luminantAegis is more convenient. Just a suggestion though.
Other: They're teens. I'm not going to even bother commenting about how much I dislike mentioning this every part.
Story time! Or… look at the parts time?
~~~~~~~~~
Prompt: http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/415338.html
Prologue: http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/421192.html
Part 1: http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/426312.html
Part 2: You're currently on it, numbnuts!
Part 3: Just be patient and I shall bestow it upon you hopefully soon.
~~~~~~~~~
Zisteau was a little kid who just wanted to bathe in lava. In an overworldly plains. That wasn't odd for anyone, really. He talked about it with the other children. All of their eyes twinkled whenever he mentioned it.
He knew the twinkle in his eyes was different. No one questioned it because he was the soon-to-be monarch and they knew he probably had been to the overworld once or twice. The twinkle was more of "I-WANNA-RETURN-DAD-CAN-I-GO-BACK-no-son-you-cannot" twinkle.
And in that moment the whole word "twinkle" was nothing more than a very overused word.
His parents, uncles and aunts were dead and he wasn't of age to rule so his oldest cousin who was a female became Queen Dowager, Duchess of Fyorale. He wondered why her duchy's name sounded so awesome compared to the entire monarchy's name, Pigmania. That just sounded really silly.
He promised to himself to rename the sovereignty when he became throned. He did not have the power to do anything though he was crown prince and there was a dowager. He disliked the system. A lot.
~~~~~~~~~
Zisteau was a healthy eleven years old when he finally realised something.
He misjudged his cousins.
The oldest one, specifically. He was the youngest of everyone and thought all of them were picking on him.
Maybe the younger ones were, but still. They were all trying to prepare him to become King. He apologised to all of them.
The duchess had simply patted him on the head and gave him a lava bucket in an odd shape. Instead of the usual, round shape, it was jagged and made out of tiny iron blocks.
When he questioned about the odd bucket, her face took on an expression of confusion.
She replied, "I don't even know why it's like that myself, really. When I asked, the blacksmith just said circles were impossible to make and if he made right angles so tiny that we couldn't see it, it would give us the illusion that it was a circle. That blacksmith was never right in the head, I wondered why I even asked him."
"Asked him?" Zisteau echoed.
"I wanted to get a present for my own sister but I remembered she hates lava," she held up the bucket, "so I decided not to give it to her and keep it in case something happens where I need to use it. I already had my own bucket but it's smaller so. Uh. Yeah. I'm giving this to you."
She dropped the bucket on his head, "Hope ya like it, kiddo."
~~~~~~~~~
Zisteau never imagined he would say this but. He actually liked his cousin.
She was pretty cool. He once asked her why she had an odd spear sword thing for a weapon and she said it was because it could poke people with the stick end and do awesome things.
She then held the blade up in the air and spun it, creating an updraft that looked epic. She then swiftly and smoothly moved from the spinning to slashing the ground once, creating dust that blocked his view and after it cleared, she was in a pose that anyone would be jealous of.
He then knew why she chose that object as her weapon. "I'm calling it a scythe," she smiled fondly not towards him but her weapon.
Which lead him to his next point. She wasn't exactly sane either. She knew she was a something-path. Psychopath? Most something-paths included psychopaths in their definition. Sociopath? Possibly. Telepath? Zisteau actually believed she could do that but that was off point. Glidepath? She wasn't a runway come on.
This was – no, is – silly and is getting even more sillier by the second.
No one except the two of them knew about this. Even her sister didn't know, she said. She told him that if he ever told anyone of this, all hell would break loose. He thought it was ironic since they were living in hell itself.
He thought she would be prettier if she was a human. The green and pink just looked unnatural on her. So did her underbite.
He just sighed. She was an interesting yet confusing lady and not to mention Queen Dowager.
~~~~~~~~~
Zisteau was seventeen and was going to be eighteen in about two weeks.
Which meant the coronation was going to start. He was rather nervous – or would be, if not for his cousin comforting him with the fact that it was just another annoying ball that she forced him to attend and he had a golden hat on his head.
"Where is the slumgullion?" Zisteau watched from the prince's throne as she asked the female butler. The lady was spooked as the duchess had been approaching from behind.
Once she realised who the person was, she bowed deeply, "I apologise, may I inquire to what Her Majesty has asked of me?"
"Where is the slumgullion?" she repeated as patiently.
The butler questioned, "The stew or drink?"
The duchess replied a bit more impatiently, "Both." She then smiled a bit like "I know you're just stalling just spit it out already it's not like I can't exile you right now".
"The stew is being prepared by the chefs and the drinks are being stored in the wine cellar due to lack of space in the kitchen," the butler gulped a little and smiled back hesitantly.
The duchess spun around and walked in the direction of the wine cellar.
Zisteau wondered why the servants and maids were more disrespectful to her now. Maybe because she was going to be finally off the throne and the rightful King should take his place? Gee, he didn't realise his subjects were so… loyal? That was the word but… loyal to the customs. Yes, that was it.
He saw the duchess' younger sister walk in. She was barely younger than the lady herself. She was Marquise Berecyntia Genesis.
He decided to tell her about the… condition, that the Duchess of Fyorale was in. About her psychopathy, to put it more bluntly.
Genesis was rather shocked, to say the least. She was mumbling to herself that she knew something was amiss the day the darn pot hit her smack in the middle of her face.
She walked back out and Zisteau guessed she was probably going to get a doctor to check-up on the duchess after the coronation.
Zisteau was very amused and probably would have thought it would be for the better, if not for the fact the duchess said all hell would break loose. Why is he even focusing on that? And how did he even remember that particular sentence? She was goddamn insane, this was malarkey, Zisteau had to stop thinking, end thought.
Focusing on other things, a bird had flown into the castle. It was a carrier pigeon which meant the letter was from the humans. They only contacted if there were serious matters.
It flew towards him and dropped the letter on his lap and flew away.
He picked up the letter and read it, eyebrows knitted. As he read, his eyebrows slowly raised and his face got paler by the seconds. Once he was done, his eyebrows were nearly past his hairline and his face was the colour of a blank sheet of paper.
"To the ruler and the heir/ess apparent,
Us humans' supply of gold is short and scarce and you zombie pigmen have gold inside of you. We understand that the gold inside your bodies is an important part to your system and as such if it were to be removed even if it was surgically, you would be dead.
We also understand that zombie pigmen are okay with violence. Some of you embrace it, even.
From our information, it is in our best interests we have a war. Once our carrier pigeon has returned to the land of the living, we shall start sending troops to your dimension. Kindly ask your people to refrain from attacking back.
Signed by humans"
Zisteau slumped against his seat. Not a moment later, the duchess walked out of the kitchen, seemingly satisfied with whatever things she had inspected.
She noticed Zisteau and walked over.
"Oh, are you dead? It was quite early for you. I hope your death was painless. If it was, I'm sorry. Wait, you can't hear me. You're dead," she propped Zisteau up on his throne, "What a shame. Just before your coronation, too. The fellow could've killed you after you'd experienced how it feels like to be king. Why did you have to die while I was gone? I always miss out on the nice things. Like that one time my sister killed her first magma cube, I was away at blah blah blah…"
She was picking him up. Zisteau regained control of himself and he glared at the duchess. "Oh. You're alive. It's a Christmas miracle," her voice was laden with so much sarcasm Zisteau barely noticed how she used another made-up word. Christmas? What was that? He felt like it would snow in hell before he found out.
"Your face is suddenly so red. Wow. That was quick. I call hacks," she sounded slightly amused. Another made-up word. That was a first.
He growled, "The humans are calling goddamn war on us and you're still so calm? Have you not seen the letter that's on my goddamn lap?"
Everyone within hearing range including the male and female butler froze. Some of them dropped whatever they were holding.
The duchess calmly took her hands off Zisteau and looked straight into the female butler's eyes, "You remember the training? GO. ARRANGE EVERYONE," she pointed towards the ballroom.
The butler scurried off. The other one bowed and said, "I understand what to do, Your Majesty," and briskly walked to the servant's quarters.
The duchess turned around, walked towards the coat rack and took a cloak that Zisteau assumed was some random royalty's cloak they forgot to take back and either never noticed or didn't care. It had been there ever since he was born.
She took her scythe off her back and donned the cloak. She walked towards the door and pushed it open, proclaiming, "I am the Duchess of Fyorale and my purpose is to be the Queen Dowager!"
Zisteau was more than sure she was psychopathic and telepathic at that moment. He could see the pigmen starting to stream past the door and to the portal.
She rose her scythe towards the sky and disappeared. She was using magic to get to the surface. Goddamnit, why didn't she teach him? No one ever taught him the cool tricks.
The thought was pushed aside by the other matters at hand. He hurried to his room which held one of the three portals. There was one outside which was only activated on emergencies like this where all the zombie pigmen were headed towards and there was one in the ballroom…
Oh no. The manservants and maids. They were all properly trained to fight which meant they were better fighters than most other pigmen. He turned around to head towards the ballroom.
They were all lined up and in the armour Pigmania castle guards, knights, pages and squires would wear… if there were any, that is. It was a fanciful mix of pink and green on a backdrop of silver, designed by none other than the duchess herself.
He felt pride swelling up in his chest before it deflated away at the fact she was the one planning the attack on the humans.
He ran towards the female butler – where had the male one gone, anyway? – and clenched her shoulders tightly from behind. She tensed and whipped her head around, getting a faceful of hair in Zisteau's face.
Once she realised who it was, her eyes widened and she apologised profusely. Zisteau pursed his lips and spoke, "Do not go to the overworld."
She stopped in the middle of her apology and she said what he dreaded to hear, "I must apologise. We cannot do that, for it is the Queen's orders."
"Please don't. I'll convince the Board of Governers to sign the royal pardon. I really don't want all of you to go to the overworld," Zisteau pleaded.
It was her turn to purse her lips. She was thinking. He couldn't wait for much longer.
"I'm not very sure about tha-"
"Please," he stressed. He clenched her shoulders tightly, looking straight into her eyes.
She heaved a deep sigh, "Alright, Crown Prince. Just this once. But it's not like it will matter since you'll become the ruler of this entire consarned monarchy in two weeks."
His face brightened considerably and he let go of the butler. She briskly walked over to the manservants and maids to tell them of the change in plans. They shot nervous glances his way.
He straightened his back and lifted his chin – apparently that was the only vote of confidence they needed.
"If I may, may I request that all of you protect the castle in case my plan doesn't work?" Zisteau requested.
"It's not like we had anything else to do anyway- what? Are you overthrowing the Queen?" she asked disbelievingly.
Zisteau was alarmed, "No, it's not like tha-"
"I mean, none of us are against it, in fact we are all for it-"
"I'M TRYING TO- uh, concilate our kind and the humans," Zisteau started mumbling at the end.
A mix of doubt and worry crossed her youthful features, almost making her seem mature, "Are you sure you can do this? Alone?" It seemed as if she couldn't believe even if he had gone with someone, he could stop the war.
"Yes," he answered, trying to make it seem strong but it came out weak. He tried again, "Yes."
That was more like it.
Though he recieved well wishes from all the manservants, maids and of course the female butler, his outlook on the situation didn't really change all that much. He could only see gloominess and death for him and maybe for all.
Goddamn mind didn't want to focus on the good things, did it.
He walked back to his room, setting his hand on the doorknob. The portal was rather small and he wasn't sure he could fit through it anymore. It was a gift from his late father whom he couldn't recall at all.
He twisted the doorknob and stepped through the door.
"Turn back," a voice in his mind whispered urgently, "Maybe it's not too late! You can still live normally. Hang out with her after the war, maybe even talk to other aristocrats your age…"
He responded out loud since no one was there to hear him anyway, "Even if I did turn back… it's useless. She would be dead, I would become King of either this monarchy or slaves, everyone would bow before me and not treat me equally… to be honest, I'd rather die."
He could feel the voice slinking away in defeat. He wasn't sure where that thing came from. Maybe it was his cousin telling him not to go? That must be some powerful psychic bullshit she was pulling for it to reach the deepest depths in the underworld.
But seriously though why did no one teach him that stuff.
He put the lit obsidian crown on his head with more force than necessary, feeling resentful towards all the mages in his kingdom. He ought to get them exiled for not teaching him cool stuff.
He could feel the purple material stretch around him, pressing onto his skin. It was pleasantly warm yet cool at the same time. He could feel himself disappearing and reappearing. He remembered the other time he used this crown, he appeared in a waterfall's alcove. Was it still untouched? He didn't know.
He felt the object on his head expanding to fit the actual portal on the other side.
Zisteau was in the overworld. He felt the burst of cool air hit his skin. It was colder than he remembered. It was probably the tense atmosphere. He stepped out of the portal and slid on a slippery surface, sending him down a slide.
What was going on.
The slide twisted and turned in ways Zisteau thought couldn't be possible. He tried to put his hands on the sides to slow his descent but they were too slippery to get a good grip on. He didn't remember which was up and which was down until he was tossed into an actual alcove.
He got up and failed miserably the first time. After a few moments of self-deprecation he tried again and barely got up.
He flexed every part of his body to make sure it was still there. One of his uncles lost a toe to a portal and another one killed himself on the slide.
How are slides more dangerous than portals, I tell you? One is just for fun while the other is a dimension-hopping device, damnit.
"No more turning back now," Zisteau closed his eyes and muttered.
He looked up after inspecting the more important parts of his body was still there, in case the body part was somewhere else but he could still control it. Everything was fine and dandy. Almost even muscular but he didn't want to brag.
He saw the water cascading in front of his face. Two blurry figures were on the other side. One was approaching the other at a very fast speed. The other was clumsily wielding a bow and drew the string back, clearly aiming at the other one. He let go, arrow wobbling due to the archer's obvious inexpertise but struck the figure in the area around its heart just as it was about to sink its blade in the other figure's skull.
Zisteau could hear the dull clatter of the sword as the figure collapsed. He hoped it wasn't in the heart. But there was no use hoping. He would die of blood loss eventually unless there was a medic on the field which considering it was pigmen fighting, probably wouldn't be.
"First blood," he thought silently as many other shadows passed, most likely the fallen figure's comrades, trying to kill as many humans as they could. The archer looked panicked before running out of view.
He held the lava bucket the dowager gave him. Clutching it tightly, he hoped the lava wouldn't cool enough to the point where it wouldn't sedate his subjects.
He ran out into the fields, drenching the aforementioned field in lava. The bucket stored more than it looked like it would which was handy.
Everyone was startled for a moment. The pigmen were drowsy, it seemed. The humans were all skittering away from the lava.
It was a thin layer but it did the job. His people were all lying down in it. The humans were watching from a distance, archers not doing anything.
Speaking of archers, an archer seemed to be breathing a sigh of relief. Zisteau wondered why… sarcastically.
"I do not wish for our kinds to fight," he lifted his chin up towards the humans.
People started muttering, "They're a peaceful race? That's a surprise…" "Then, if they don't want to fight and our leader is brainwashed into thinking that the guy's products are 'divine' and it needs gold, a lot of it… who's driving the car?" and some others that the author is too lazy to think of and write out.
Insert the line from "Blue lips", "God, is this all, there is?" here.
Zisteau thought that this was rather easy and didn't have all the blood he expected. Remind him to never be a fortune teller.
Not like he could since he was the king, but still.
Zisteau saw a man in his late twenties dressed up more fancier than everyone else. Probably the leader he heard someone mutter.
The man walked to the front and said, "I humbly apologise for waging war against your kind."
Zisteau could hear a human saying, "Well, isn't he a suck-up." (Un)Fortunately, it didn't seem like their leader heard. Take note of the word "seem".
"Well, one of our kinds would become extinct if we actually fought…" he started mumbling at the end yet again.
He felt lava being splashed on him. Why did the duchess have to come at the wrong time.
It wasn't the thin layer of lava. It was her own goddamn bucket of lava.
After negotiations and such were done behind the scenes because I can't write that, Zisteau was being ushered back into the portal by happy citizens. They were praising him like, "SIRE YOU SHALL BE THE BEST KING THERE IS wait whoops I'm talking too loud", "you're like a fairy godmother except Zisteau version", "pardon my language but Zisteau high as fuck, granting childhood wishes and shit", "and I was like yooooooooo and the king was all like pouring lava on the field and I made a snow angel except it was lava yooooooooo" and many others that the author would totally write if she could think of them.
Zisteau was content with everything for once.
~~~~~~~~~
"I shall crown thee, King of Pigmania!" the once-dowager put the crown on Zisteau's head. Applauses rippled through the crowds.
"And I shall boot myself off the throne," she made a boot levitate and kicked herself off the seat. She picked up a flower basket laying beside her and tossed the flowers in the air.
The marquise stormed into the place and carried the duchess on her back. Her strength was rather unexpected since she looked like a fragile, delicate flower… but nevermind. Some flowers were poisonous, damnit.
"HEYO wait wait WAIT GENESISTER I can explain ZISTEAU DAMNIT WHY I mean like I can handle myself I'm not going apeshit crazy and killing everyone am I REALLY BERRYCYNTIA STOP…" she was too far for Zisteau to hear and the author is focusing on him therefore she shall stop this tomfoolery.
And then the boot the duchess used to kick herself flew in through the window. She never did stop levitating the boot, did she.
The festivities carried through the whole day and even past midnight. Zisteau was worn out from all the dancing with the ladies. They were all trying to get his attention to possibly have a chance to be a prospective bride.
They were pretty, but nah. None of them really caught his eye.
A mirror appeared in front of him while he sat on his bed. It reflected not him, but an odd male human that mirrored his actions. Everything else was the same. The bed, the wall and even the odd stalactite that he wasn't even sure could be considered a stalactite.
He reached out and touched the mirror, expecting it to be cold and hard. It was quite a shock when it rippled. Drawing his hand back with a gasp of surprise, he slowly reached out again.
It was lukewarm and a lot – no, too much like water. He leaned in and thought if it led to somewhere else…
Would it be worth it to abandon his life here as King? Just to go to an unknown land possibly filled with danger. The thought scared him as much as it excited him. Adventures would be had with a companion of sorts – possibly one he could interact with.
He reached in further. What if it just led to oblivion? Limbo or some odd universe. He would be lonely and sad.
He halted for a moment. All of a sudden, the mirror was pulling him in.
It was too fast for him to register what was happening. His entire body was pulled in in a matter of seconds.
The white that greeted him was blinding. He could feel at peace though.
He looked at himself. His body was fading. Starting from the toe. He didn't feel panicked. Just at peace. One with the world.
Once the fade reached his eyes, he saw the darkness as far as his eyes could see.
And he lost consciousness.
~~~~*Extra*~~~~
The timelord decided he would go to the point in time and decide for himself whether interfering directly or through the program was more fun- he meant efficient. Yes. Efficient.
The readers know what exactly he's looking for, really.
Turns out it was just as entertaining but much more miserably failing.
Really though. Why.
~~~~~~~~~
A piglady quickly swooped in to carry the fallen pigman to somewhere more peaceful, making sure not to be noticed amidst all the chaos.
She settled for the alcove after waiting for the soon-to-be King to rush out.
Pulling out a bandage from her pocket, she set to work. She removed the arrow as gently as she could and sewed the skin together.
"It's going to leave a nasty scar, isn't it…" she muttered while putting another shirt over the damaged shirt the pigman was wearing.
The male stirred. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw a female. "Phosphoros…?" he spoke raspily.
"Yes, it's me, Pathe. Why'd you leave the palace like that?" she questioned.
He laughed a little, "Way to ask me right after I wake up." He placed a hand over his stitches and winced. "Ow. I suppose I should thank you since you could have left me to die out there."
"I would if I could but Ivy wouldn't allow me to," she scoffed scathingly, "And if I actually did she would kill me."
"Good point," Pathe laughed. Phosphoros looked at him weirdly, "Your sense of humor is weird. Anyway, answer the question. It's basic courtesy to answer people when they ask. I wonder how you even managed to become a butler alongside me when you lack that certain aspect."
"Because you slipped up a little on commanding people," he smiled a bit deviously, "So we were equally good."
She bared her teeth a little and snarled, "Don't remind me of that incident."
"Heheh. Well, Lily-" he was cut short.
Phosphoros spoke, "Use her name in this part of time, damnit."
"Chthonia Berecyntia Genesis? That good enough?" the lady nodded grudgingly and he continued, "She did tell me to get the flint and steel but I thought that since you guys weren't going anyway, I might as well go headfirst into battle. She probably expected that since she's a time traveller, after all. So that's also probably why she made all the other pigmen's armour heavy."
She nodded in understanding, "Oh. Okay."
~~~~*End*~~~~
Trivia: Ivy's name here is Trivia Berecyntia Genesis. Heheh.
no subject
Date: Monday, December 9th, 2013 01:28 pm (UTC)That was great.
Well done, friend.
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Date: Tuesday, December 10th, 2013 07:57 am (UTC)