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OOC: this RP takes place during World Cup 34, and concerns Bettia's new arrivals, Northern Bettia's hairbrained scheme at taking over the world, and eventually explains how Northern Bettia come to arrive here in Atlantian Oceania.
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Matchday three, and the Blessed Realm of Bettia was not a happy sight. Spirits were especially heavy at the Pie and Pixie, Bettia's most famous sports café nestled quite nicely in the leafy Gabalfa suburb of Pifton. As was the norm for any of the Aroras' games, the streets were deserted and the P&P was packed to the rafters with those footy fans unlucky enough not to get a ticket for the big game.
The café itself was now under new management after the tragic, although perhaps not so untimely death of Doris, its elderly owner who died along with her newly-wedded husband on the eve of that glorious World Cup final. Now, it was up to their old friend Ali to keep the old place running, and he sat behind the counter, cup of tea in hand, with his faithful pet arora Bapty and her remaining arora-babies scuttling around in the backyard. A photo in memory of the previous owners was perched on the wall behind him, with the walls festooned with green and yellow bunting that seemed to give the place a jolly, party-like ambience.
Ah, but partying was the last thing on the locals' minds as they sat, staring in disbelief at the P&P's new HumungoScreen which now took up almost an entire wall to one side. With just a couple of minutes to go, Bettia were on the verge of losing the big game, their local-ish derby away to Quakmybush. Of course, it wasn't the result that had them shocked - after all, losing to Quakmybush is hardly a disgrace. Oh no, something more serious was up.
"I can't believe it," said Rhys, a middle-aged forty-something who was sat a table just in front of Ali holding a welsh cake, and letting most of it drop onto the floor - a fact that Momo, one of Bapty's litter, was most grateful for as he hungrily gobbled up the crumbs before proceding to leap up and snatch the remains of the half-eaten cake straight out of his hand.
"I know, I know," agreed Evan, an older man with a belly to match. "You just don't expect this kind of thing in this day and age, do ya?"
"Nope. No self-respect at all. I mean, what possesses a perfectly good team to deliberately wear red like that? Anyone would thing it was... well, normal."
Ali shuddered, spilling a drops of tea. "Red, normal? Perish the thought."
"Well I think it's very impolite." a young voice piped up. "Changing their strip at the last minute, not even giving the Aroras time to take their blue strip to the game, or even buy some new blue sunglasses! Very rude!!"
Ali's eyes widened when he heard this voice. It wasn't the voice itself that had him slightly worried, but it was where it came from. It seemed to be coming from... above his head?! He gulped and slowly turned his gaze upwards. Sure enough, the source of the voice was there, sat cross-legged some six foot above his head, facing in the direction of the HumungoScreen whilst sipping at her own cup of tea. The voice belonged to a small girl. She was eight, perhaps even ten years old, wearing a long skirt, with long powder-blue hair tied up in a trio of ponytails.
Ali let out a small gasp when he saw this, which after all is a perfectly understandable reaction to seeing a young girl levitating in your caff. At this point the girl, who had been concentrating, almost transfixed at the events being played out on the screen in front of them, broke away from the televised match and looked down at Ali.
"Are... are you...?" Ali stammered.
The girl clapped her free hand over her mouth. "Ooops! Silly me, I shouldn't have said anything!" she said sheepishly in a muffled voice. "Oh man, my sister's gonna kill me when she finds out I've been watching footy with the fleshies!"
With that she vanished in a puff of dark grey smoke, leaving only her cup which Ali had to catch before it hit him on the head. He examined the cup. It was one of the café's own, bearing the small Pie & Pixie logo, available from behind the counter for just 3 Groats.
"Did any of you guys just see that?" Ali asked Evan and Rhys.
"See what?" they replied.
"There was... there was a girl... sitting there." he said, pointing above his head.
"What, on the ceiling?"
"No, she was in mid-air, floating."
"Floating?! Are you crazy?"
"I swear it. She was right there, I tell ya - right there!" said Ali, frantically pointing up above his head.
"Oh yes, of course Ali - a floating girl. It was probably some smoke. You're always burning the toast here, you know."
"Now you're taking the piss! Burning the toast indeed. I say it was a jinn, and if it is, I want her caught!"
"Caught? Why? So the government can take her away and study her and do experiments and stuff?"
"Sod that. She left without paying the bill!" |
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"Ah, now that's much better!"
That certainly seemed to be the consensus of opinion as Bettia bounced back from their red-tinted disappointment against Quakmybush. Even the comedy tumbleweed that tumbled its way down the deserted streets of Pifton seemed to have a spring in its step. As the Aroras cruised to a 5-2 win at Gnejs, the Pie and Pixie was enjoying a much happier atmosphere. There were smiles all round and clinking teacups aplenty as its clientele enjoyed the game.
All except one man.
Ali stood behind the counter as always, smiling politely whenever he took an order, but nervously looking up over his shoulder every so often. The events of the previous matchday had spooked him silly. Did he really see a girl floating in mid-air? Was it a jinn, or a ghost, or was it just his daft old mind playing tricks on him?
"Here Ali, we couldn't have another plate of waffles over here, could we?" Rhys called from the other side of the counter. But Ali didn't hear him - he was too concerned with peering over his shoulder.
"Ali? Hello-ooo?" Rhys said, waving his hand fron of Ali's face. Ali gave a start, and apologised.
"Oh, sorry mate. I was miles away."
"Yeah, I could see that. Don't tell me you're still looking for that imaginary friend of yours?"
"What?! No, I was just... umm... inspecting the ceiling for cobwebs. Yes, that's it! Cobwebs!"
Rhys wasn't impressed. "Bollocks. You're still going on about that thing you say you saw."
"I keep telling you, she was real! REAL I tell you!"
"Yeah, yeah, of course she was mate. So how come no-one else saw it?"
"I dunno. Guess you were too busy matching the match."
"Whatever. So how about those waffles?"
"Sure, I'll get 'em going. I'll bring 'em over when they're ready. That'll be a Groat please."
Ali took his money, stuffed into his trusty till and busied himself while Rhys toddled off back to his seat to take in the sights of Bettia playing against a normal non-red wearing team. The events of the Quakmybush match had caused a certain degree of trauma in the Blessed Realm. Being caught by surprise by the last-minute change in kits had seen a large influx of hospital admissions, mainly through shock, heart palpitations and severely chronic eye strain. But now the sight was much more pleasant.
"Hello mister! Can I have a cup of tea please?" a cheerful high-pitched voice piped up behind Ali's back. Ali smiled as he slowly turned around.
"Of course dear. That'll be GAAAAH!" he said as he stumbled backwards in shock. It was that girl again, sat on the counter, kicking her legs up and down and grinning sweetly from ear to ear.
"It's you! You're the one I saw!" Ali said, pointing at her. The girl nodded.
"I must apologise for conduct of my sister." another voice said from by his side. Ali looked to see another girl, older this time, looking perhaps fifteen or sixteen years old, dressed in dark grey trousers and a matching loose sleeveless top which showed a glimpse of midriff. A pair of dark eyes peered out from above a small dark grey veil worn over her face, with a thick crop of jet black hair framing it all. "She doesn't always know how to conduct herself in this world. After all, she's only a child."
"I'm not a child," the younger girl pouted, crossing her arms grumpily. "I'm 237 years old next week! You haven't forgotten my birthday, have you Junilun?"
"Of course not, how could I? After all, you've been reminding us non-stop for the last three months. Anyone would think your 237th birthday was something special. Now then Fatarani, haven't you got something to say to this old fleshie?"
The younger girl fidgited nervously. "Ummm, I, erm..."
"Say it!" the older girl snapped.
"I'm... I'm sorry I frightened you mister. I didn't mean it."
Ali chuckled uneasily. "That's okay, erm, Fatarani, wasn't it?"
Fatarani broke into another of her cheesy grins. "Yes, that's right! Fatarani! Cool name, huh? Okay, I'll see you soon! Bye!"
And with that, the two girls vanished once again.
"Hey wait! Come back!" Ali yelled.
"Huh? Who are you shouting to?" said Evan as he heaved his heavy frame around in his chair to look at him, as did most of the other customers.
"That girl. She was here again, with her sister this time."
"Oh, you have two imaginary friends now!? Yes, of course."
"But it's true, they were right here next to me!"
"Ali, old friend, you're going doolally! If they were there, how come nobody else saw them?"
"They... they..." Ali stammered. Was he really going doolally? Surely he didn't just have a conversation with two imaginary girls, they seemed so real. But how did they appear and disappear like that? Sighing, Ali took out his newspaper and checked the match schedule.
He laughed and shook his head.
Bettia's next game was against Estresse Intenso, the team from the mental institute. How ironic. |
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Ah yes, now THIS is the life.
It's a day when the lovely late spring sunshine is surpassed only by the football currently on show by the Aroras. The fans that made the trip to Kiryu-Shi, the millions more that have packed into football grounds and town squares throughout the nation, and the billions that have tuned in around the world are being treated to a veritible feast of football.
Of course, it goes without saying that the ten-goal thriller that the two teams have served up is being enjoyed in the Pie and Pixie, the most famous sports café in Bettia, and perhaps even the world now. Every seat is taken, and so is every square foot of free floor space. It's a good job the café's owner Ali has just installed a new aircon system, otherwise things could get rather sticky.
As the final whistle approaches to signal an end to Bettia's enthralling 6-4 win, Ali sits himself down and grabs his copy of today's Gabalfa Observer. He lazily leafs through the pages - politics, today's weather forecast (it's sunny, just as it always is), national and international current affairs, and of course sport. While briefly skimming over the latest Apex League news, one story in particular jumps out and grabs him - it's a special feature examining the events surrounding matches of the nation's puppets, Northern Bettia. Ali reads through it carefully and has a little chuckle to himself.
"Heh. Those guys'll try anything. Looks like it's working too."
"It's probably the Oneiromancer's work!"
Ali looked around to see a familiar levitating little girl reading the paper over his shoulder, before slumping forward and burying his head in his hands.
"Oh great - I'm hallucinating again!" he groaned loudly.
The little girl grinned. "Hello mister! Good match today, yes?"
"Fatarani, what have I told you about saying HIS name out loud?"
Ali turned around and looked - sure enough, Fatarani's elder sister Junilun is standing right behind him with her arms crossed, and glaring angrily at her with her large dark eyes. Fatarani's head drooped a little.
"You said never to say the Oneiromancer's name out loud otherwise he'll come and bite my head off." she said timidly.
Junilun tutted. "You said it again."
"What? Oneiromancer?"
"Yes! Stop it!"
"Oneiromancer! Oneiromancer! Oneiromancer!"
"STOP IT!"
"Both of you stop it!" Ali snapped angrily, causing the customers nearest the counter to turn and look at them. "Just what the hell is going on? And what is this Oneiromancer thing anyway?"
"You mean you don't know?" Junilun replied, her eyebrows raised quizzically. Ali shook his head. "Well, to be honest, I don't know for sure neither. None of us do."
"And who is this 'us' anyway, little girl?" Fat Evan asked whilst dabbing his head with his handkerchief. Fatarani's face burst into a huge grin and she floated excitedly over to him.
"Wow, you're big! Are you pregnant?" she asked cheekily before sticking her head into his stomach for a few seconds, then pulling it out again. "No, it's just fat. Eeeeeew!"
Naturally, the faces of Evan and his mates were rapidly turning a pale shade of white after just seeing this unnatural event. Meanwhile, Junilun tutted and shook her head.
"Me and my sister Fatarani are Jinn. Ifrit, to be exact."
"Ifrit?" the entire café seemed to say in a shocked chorus.
"Relax fleshling, we're not evil. If we were evil, this entire city would have been a smouldering pile of rubble long before now!"
Ali gulped, half-shocked by Junilun's matter-of-fact way of explaining her nature, and half-relieved that he really wasn't going la-la after all.
"So, um. What's this you were saying about the Oneiromancer bloke?"
Fatarani giggled. "You said the O word!" Junilun ignored her and answered Ali.
"Like I said, we don't really know. Some say he was once an ordinary fleshling who became obsessed with dark magic until it completely consumed him. Some say he's an Ifrit like us, a powerful one - perhaps even more powerful than Satan himself. Those are just baseless rumours though. He's probably something completely different. Or maybe he doesn't even exist. Who knows? According to legend, he was banished into the Void after being defeated in battle by Alasdair I Frosticus - of course if this is true, this happened long before I was born."
"And how many centuries ago was that?"
"Ooh, I dunno. Six, maybe seven. I lost count when I hit five-hundred-and-something. When you're grown up like me, birthdays don't matter as much as they do for children like Fatarani."
"I'm not a child!" Fatarani pouted, just like the last time. "I'm 237!"
"Oh yes, I forgot! Stay there!" Ali shouted as he ran into the kitchen, leaving the stunned customers to stare at the two visitors, their mouths gaping open. A minute or so later, Ali returned holding a small chocolate cake with a single candle on top.
"Happy birthday!"
Fatarani's eyes lit up wide with delight.
"It's CHOCOLATE!!" she screamed as she greedily snatched the cake and proceeded to stuff the whole thing into her mouth.
"Fatarani!" Junilun snapped. Fatarani looked up
"Yeff ffiffter?" she spluttered, sending bits of cake flying everywhere.
"What do you say to the nice old fleshling?" Junilun said as she brushed off a couple of crumbs which had nestled themselves on her ample round breasts.
"Thank you mister!"
"That's okay." Ali replied happily before turning back to Junilun. "Going back to that Oneiromancer - what does that have to do with what Fatarani said about the Fire Ants earlier."
"Oh that. Some people say that the Oneiromancer can influence the weak-willed, even from the depths of the Void. It certainly explains a lot of what's been going on in their matches. Ever since they came into being, they've delighted in cheating and using dirty underhand tactics to gain the upper hand. Then of course we have those shameful events in Mekhule - I mean, what possess a normally chaste girl like Sasha Bry to seek out a gang of hooligans and drag them back to her hotel room for a televised orgy?"
Fatarani interrupted them "Erm, mister? What's an orgy?"
"Never you mind." Ali replied tersely.
"Yes Fatarani, that's not the sort of thing a child should know about."
"I'M NOT A CHILD!!!"
"Anyway, then there was those tricks they used against The Archregimancy - the donkeys, the chants, the burning of the fake icons. The Oneiromancer is said to be the sworn enemy of the Dreamed Realm, and he must have been delighted to see these take place."
"But I've always put those antics down to the Northern Bettians being complete and utter bastards. What makes you think this Oneiromancer has anything to do with all this."
"Evil will always seek to gain a foothold in any world it can. It could be that Northern Bettia is that foothold. And besides..." Junilun said as she shook her head sadly. "Terrible things are taking place in our realm."
"The realm of the Jinn?"
"Yes. For many thousands of years there has always been a balance of good and evil, but recently that has shifted badly. Evil is spreading at an alarming rate, so much so that our entire realm is on the brink of war. With this in mind, the Ifrit Grand Shura has decided to take drastic action."
With that, Junilun took Fatarani's hand. "Come on sister, say goodbye to the fleshlings."
"Goodbye mister! Goodbye fat man!"
Ali stepped forward. "Wait a minute. What drastic action?"
"Just watch the Az-cz match."
And with that they were gone in an instant, leaving the Pie and Pixie in a stunned silence. Ali sat down in his chair.
"Bloody hell, I'm 79 - I'm too old for this good vs. evil nonsense..."
This post has been edited by Bettia on May 18 2007, 09:21 AM |
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Posts: 956 |
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Question: what is the official capacity of Bettia's national stadium, Tiddles Park?
If you were asked that question yesterday and your answer was in the region of 102000, you would've been correct. But now? Now nobody's quite so sure...
Matchday nine had started normally enough. Spirits were high as the Aroras went into their friendly against Az-cz. A clash between two of the world's top teams would be special enough on any day. The fact that this was a rerun of the last World Cup final added an extra spice to the occasion. But nobody who watched this match could've guessed just how extraordinarily this day would turn out.
One place where the anticipation was more ripe than usual was the Pie & Pixie, that veritable mecca of quality sports viewing. Ali's new HumungoScreen was pulling in the customers like there was no tomorrow and today was no exception, but the locals were keeping a close eye on the game for an extra special reason - Junilun's little hint that something major was about to go down. All through the game, they painstakingly scrutinised the screen for any kind of clue, any breadcrumb that would lead them to the truth. As the camera cut to the scene of Evan Miranda celebrating Bettia's second goal in first half injury time, Rhys jumped up and shouted even more excitedly than usual.
"Hey, what's that? There, in the top corner?"
Ali shook his head. "Correct me if I'm wrong Rhys old pal, but that looks like a floodlight" he said with a chuckle. "Look guys, this is ridiculous. I mean look at us - we're jumping at shadows here."
Rhys sighed as he sat back down. "Ali's right. Surely if something was going to happen, it would've done before now." The rest of the gang nodded in agreement and settled down to their half-time cuppas as Ali dished out an extra-large plate of scones, complete with lashings of strawberry jam and whipped cream. After taking over the Pie & Pixie from their dearly departed friends (Allah rest their souls), Ali had revelled in his new job, and his strawberry and cream scones had become something of a speciality of his. On any other day, they would've been scoffed down in ten seconds flat, but at this particular moment in time, they were sent spraying in all directions as the usual half-time banter in the Sonastra Sports TV studio was interrupted by a certain young blue-haired girl.
"A few question marks about whether this goal should've been disallowed, wouldn't you agree?"
"Oh yes. It would've been a dream start for the visitors, scoring after just three minutes, and to be honest this offside decision was pretty marginal. Of course, the match officals don't have the benefit of..."
"Hello mister! Do you have any chocolate?" Fatarani chirped in her usual cute manner as she suddenly materialised in mid-air right in front of the obviously-shocked pundit, who backed himself as far as he could go in his chair before giving out a weak cry of "Security! Get this child of here!".
"I'm not a child, I'm 237 years old!" Fatarani pouted. "How old are you, 40? You're the child! Are you still wearing a nappy? I bet you are!"
"Fatarani, if you continue scaring that poor man, he'll need a nappy!" Junilun said as she appeared behind her sister directly in front of the camera, the studio lights glinting off her well-tanned skin. "Oh, don't worry about my sister. She won't harm you, and neither will I. In fact, none of us will!"
"Erm, what do you mean, 'none of us'?" the main presenter asked as he pulled nervously at his shirt collar, half out of sheer fright and half out of suddenly being confronted by a young woman whose undeniable beauty was only dampened by the small veil she wore across her face.
"If you would instruct your director to show the seating areas of the stadium, I have an announcement to make."
A short pause was followed by the presenter giving the nod to the floor manager. Eventually, the screens of every TV in the country and around the world who just happened to be watching the match were showing a panning shot of the stands. Nothing out of the ordinary here... well, that is if you don't count the ethereal blue-white glow which gradually appeared all around Tiddles Park, filling every corner of the pitch with its soft, calming light. An eery silence fell all around the ground as what looked like tens of thousands, perhaps even millions of distinct figures began to show themselves, all seated in rows above the spectators' heads reaching high into the sky, way up above the roof. Some of them looked very human, some looking more like bright silhouettes, some looking almost monstrous. Some of the figures looked young whilst the others were definately much older.
As they became clearer, a feeling of fright started to make itself felt around the ground as some of the spectators began to hurridly leave their seats in a quiet panic. At that moment, a voice suddenly rang out in their heads, a voice belonging to Junilun that could also be heard through everyone watching these events around the world.
"Please, do not be alarmed. This is not an invasion - this is an evacuation. Events unfolding in our home realm have forced our leaders to take the step of moving all of our young and elderly here to Bettia, where they feel we will be safest. Being a muslim nation, most of you already believe in the existance of us Jinn, which is why you were chosen to be our hosts - you are the most likely to accept us. That, and we happen to love football. Most of us will live in the remotest parts of Bettia, so you would not be disturbed. Some of us have chosen to live in the Banastra rainforest because they like to play in the trees. Some of us have chosen the highlands and mountains of Gwlad Teg for their peace and quiet."
"Not us!" Fatarani said, interrupting her sister. "Me and Junilun have already found a home, haven't we sis?"
"Do you mind? I'm trying to communicate with an entire nation here!" Junilun replied impatiently before resuming her little broadcast. "Our leaders assure you that your nation has not been put at any risk. Now please, sit back and enjoy the game with the rest of us. BETTIA AM BYTH!!" she said with a giggle.
With that, Junilun ended her announcement and took her sister's hand. Just as they were about to leave, she turned to the presenters. "You can tell the people who run this stadium that they can turn the floodlights off - they won't be needing them!" With that, the two girls vanished.
Back in the Pie & Pixie, every single one of the customers just sat in complete silence, a scene which was being repeated throughout the Blessed Realm. Junilun and Fatarani appeared next to Ali behind the counter.
"Hello mister! Did you see us on telly?" Fatarani tittered, giving him a little wave.
"Uh-huh" was the best reply his stunned mouth could manage. "So... your friends are moving to Bettia then?"
"That's right. Like I said, it's nothing more than a wartime evacuation."
"But did you have to make it so... dramatic?"
"We thought it best to let as many of you people know as possible. We couldn't just move in without telling you. If we did, your kind would've seen us eventually, and it could've caused a nationwide panic, what with all the rumours that would fly about. We chose to make our appearance at Tiddles Park during this match because we knew that most of the nation would be watching."
"Hmmm. Nice plan. Just one thing though. What did Fatarani mean when she said the two of you have already found a home?"
Junilun looked at Fatarani, who smiled sweetly up at her, then turned back to Ali.
"The two of us have decided that we shall live here at the Pie & Pixie with you!"
Ali's eyebrows leapt up, almost as though they were about to leap straight off his face. "You? Here? With...?"
At that point Fatarani laughed, flew up to him at full pelt and locked him a bone-crushing bear hug - the dear little thing obviously didn't know her own strength.
"Tee hee! You're our Uncle Ali now!" |
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(OOC: this post is actually one of Alasdair I Frosticus', but he's given me permission to copy it here - it's all part of the plot, honest  )
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Somewhere deep within the bowels of the HQ of the State Bureau for Imperial Security... very deep, that is.... extraordinarily deep.... so deep that if we drew you a map, we'd have to kill you....
Lies the SBIS Reality Continuum Observation Room...
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"Funny.... What's this in reality BTTA876nswc56Y2xzxz?"
"Err....... Don't know, sir. Let me look.... Bettia... Nationstates world cup... well... that is odd...."
"I'd say. Who authorised a bleed between realities?"
"Looks like it was Botaniates, sir."
"What the hell was he thinking?"
"Let me download the file.... Ah. Says it's Code O business, sir. Authorised by ISPI itself, sir."
"That can't be. Not code O. Not outside the Dreamed Realm."
"Says so right here, sir. 'Gweithred Anghenfilod Fettia', sir."
"And who's responsible? Who's doing this?"
"Don't rightly know, Sir. That's classified, that is. Don't think it's us though, sir, despite the authorisation from Botaniates ..... Would you like me to do something about it, sir?"
"What? And make the situation worse? You know how things work around here, lad. Watch and wait... watch and wait... observe, but rarely act. Still, send a covert SBIS squad to Bettia - we might need some people on the ground. And make sure they remember not to wear red this time! Also, authorise a stage 4 tail if they get drawn in the Holy Empire for the World Cup proper. Don't want things getting out of hand if it is an ISPI code O."
"And what about Northern Bettia, sir?"
"What about them, lad?"
"Well, I was watching reality BTTA876nswc56Y2xzxz on the oneiroscreen yesterday..."
"And... out with it, lad..."
"Looks like the Bettians themselves think there might be a code O in operation with the behaviour of the Northern Bettians..."
"Well spotted lad. Let me look at that file.... Hm. Better not take any chances. I want room 202 prepared, just in case the Fire Ants qualify and play here. Though with any luck they'll end up in Ariddia."
"Room 202, sir? Are you quite sure?"
"Are you questioning me, lad?"
"No sir...."
"Good, because we wouldn't want the dreaming monks to forget about you tomorrow morning, would we?"
"No sir, it's just that.... room 202.... that seems, well, rather drastic..."
"Eternal vigilance is the price for utopian freedom, lad. Those freedoms up on the surface were hard fought-for. You know that as well as I do. What if one day a code O turns out to be genuine? And if eternal vigilance sometimes requires some.... extra persuasion... well, no one else need ever know about it."
"If you're sure, sir."
"I am lad. You know what to do. So do it...."
THE HOLY EMPIRE OF ALASDAIR I FROSTICUS CATEGORICALLY DENIES THE EXISTENCE OF THIS RP |
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We don't do defence |
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Posts: 956 |
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Far from the excitement of the World Cup, we cut to a windy and rainswept scene. At a miltary base somewhere outside the town of Asuza, an army major stands on a balcony and casts his gimlet eye over the young cadets on parade, occasionally saluting as they march in front of him in perfect synch. A tall, imposing figure with more than a little bit of muscle on his bones, the major casts his mind back to when he was just a kid, in the bad old days when the nation was under the jurisdiction of the Paramilitary Instigators of Secular Society (PISS) who forcibly conscripted all men of fighting or working age in their terrible giant ant-related scheme to overthrow the Bettian government. The memory of his father being dragged away, never to be seen or heard from again was still raw in his memory - ever since that day, he had vowed that would never happen to him or anyone ever again.
He was shaken from his thoughts by a younger sergeant, who had stood to attention in a deliberately noisy fashion in order to get his attention.
"Sergeant Hinata. What is it?"
The sergeant saluted. "We've just received some news from the Ministry of War. Thought you should be informed sir."
"Go on."
"Basically sir, a suspected foreign insurgent has just been apprehended at Anyuna airport."
"A suspected foreign insurgent? What makes them think that?"
"He was arrested by immigration officials because, and I quote 'because that bloke looked at us funny'."
"Really? So where's he from?"
"He was carrying a fake Mekhulian passport. It took a fair bit of interrogation to find out where he's really from. They used a variety of advanced questioning techniques - fingers in toasters, electrodes clamped to testicles..."
"Oh, so the usual stuff then."
"Yes sir."
"And? What did they find out?"
"Nothing for a while. He wouldn't stop crying, epsecially when they cut the tip off one of his little fingers."
"Pfft. Poofter."
"But after a while and a hefty dose of truth serum, it emerged he was from the Holy Empire of Alasdair I Frosticus."
"The Holy Empire? What on earth are they doing here? Is he a spy?"
The sergeant shook his head. "We don't think so sir. A lot of what he said made no sense. He kept babbling about 'glimming'."
"Glimming? What is that - a new extreme sport?"
"Not sure. He said it with a strange accent. Almost sounded like 'glimmung'. Kept mentioning something about cults and a 'nearby mancer'."
"Hmmmm. Sounds like those idiots used too much truth serum again. When are those female sexual organs going to learn - that stuff is pointless. The old ways are the best. They need to learn more patience. So, anything else from the Ministry?"
"They're advising heightened state of alert from all armed forces. If some tinpot nation really is planting spies in our nation, we need to get the jump on them."
"Defend the homeland - that's our raison d'etre. If any nation tries anything funny, we'll just introduce them to a million or so giant ants. Anything else?"
"Well, speaking of ants, the Fire Ants have just won 7-0."
"Excellent. That'll teach 'em to mess with us. Porn videos indeed..." |
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Penultimate: It's like something that's almost ultimate.
The New Bettian Dictionary for Idiots was never going to win awards for its usefulness, but as far as matchday 13 was concerned with regards to the final outcome of Group 3, it said a lot. Twas the day when Bettia hosted Northern Caesaria in a top of the table clash. Thanks to some late night jitters, both teams had failed to take the initiative and remained locked equal on points with the Aroras edging ahead on goal difference. A win would see Bettia all but guarantee top spot in the group... and lo and behold, they did.
So, that means the last matchday means nothing to the good folk of Bettia? That they can just relax while the Aroras wheeled out their over-60's team for their now-meaningless game against Lovisa?
Not on your nelly.
The build-up was still as fevered as ever, the Aroras still played out of their skins and attacked at every opportunity, and the fans still packed the various vantage points through the country. As usual, the clientele of the Pie and Pixie were making the most of Bettia's stroll in the park, making a cacophony of noise as they got behind their team 100%. Every shot was "Oooh!"ed, every pass "Olé!"ed, every tackle cheered, every goal celebrated as if it were the World Cup final itself. And of course, every dodgy refereeing decision was met by a chorus of boos and jeers, none more so when Sonny Sabitha was denied a second goal thanks to a dubious offside decision.
"Offside?! Oh, you're having a laugh, aintcha?" Fat Evan yelled in between mouthfuls of apple crumble.
"Oh come on ref, that was never offside!" Ali yelled from his usual spot behind the counter.
"Yeah, that was not off his side. That was nowhere near his side - that came off his foot!" Fatarani joined in from her own usual position sat next to Ali cross-legged in mid-air, trying desperately to make it look as though she knew what she was talking about. Rhys turned around and looked at her.
"No Rani, that's not what offside means."
"Oh. So what does it mean then?" she asked as she floated over to his table.
"Well, um... offside is when a player is nearer to his opponents' goal line than both the ball and the second to last opponent." he explained. Fatarani's face suddenly wore an expression of 'what the hell are you on about?'
"I don't understand."
"I wouldn't expect you to - it's pretty complicated, and after all, you are only a child."
"I'm not a child, I'm 237 years old!" Fatarani pouted.
Rhys set about clearing some space on the table and grabbing some accessories, trying his best not to laugh.
"Right, these teacups are the goal, right?"
"Uh-huh!" Fatarani nodded.
"And this little joker here is the goalkeeper." he said, nicking a scone from Fat Evan's plate and placing it between the goalposts.
"Right."
"And this is a defender." he said, carefully positioning a sugar bowl at the opposite end of the table.
"Okay."
"And this is an attacker." he said pointing to a clear plastic menu stand.
"Ooh, which attacker is that? Is that Peri Busilanta? I like him!" Fatarani giggled.
"Sure, whatever, it's Peri Busilanta. And this sugar cube is the ball."
"That's a rubbish ball. It's all square and pointy. How does it roll?"
"Never mind that. Now pay attention." he said as he positioned little Peri so that the defender was in between him and the goal. "Now then, here he's NOT offside because he's got two opponents between him and the goal line. See, the sugar bowl and the scone?"
"Yep!" she nodded. Rhys continued by moving Mr Busilanta so that he was now front of the sugar bowl defender, then took the square ball and moved it through the air as though it had just been crossed by an invisible player.
"Okay, NOW the player is offside because he's in front of the defender."
"Oh. So what happens if it's someone else, like a Lovisa playey-bloke?"
"Same thing happens. If he's in front of the second-to-last defender..."
"The sugar bowl."
"Yes, the sugar bowl, then he's offside."
"Oooh, let me try!" she squealed as she positioned the menu stand in front of the sugar bowl, then moved the sugar cube about in the air. "Wheeee!" Then she looked up at the screen and gave a little groan of disappointment.
"What's the matter?"
"I've moved the menu stand in front of the sugar bowl and moved the sugar cube forwards, but look up there - the Lovisa player's still playing. He's offside ref! OFFSIDE!!!!" she shouted as she top of her lungs, or whatever passes for lungs in a 237-year old Ifrit's body.
Fat Evan and Rhys looked at each other and groaned.
"Sheesh. Looks like it ain't just human women who don't understand offside."
This post has been edited by Bettia on May 30 2007, 05:06 AM |
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OOC: another Holy Empire post...
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Somewhere deep within the State Bureau for Imperial Security
"Careful there, lad, that recording's not for the squeamish..."
"But these Northern Bettians... they're barbarians."
"Not really, they simply know how to apply... persuasive interrogation techniques. Still, we always intended for them to find that plant, so no harm done."
"You knew he'd get caught?"
"We intended for him to get caught, lad."
"But the torture... what about the torture... you knew he'd be tortured?"
"I knew it was more than likely. But look, lad, that wasn't an Imperial citizen. Do you think we'd send one of our own into the muck like that? No, no. Just some brainwashed ordinary lunatic from Ordinary Reality. They're not hard to find, you know."
"But why, sir?"
"So the Northern Bettians know - wholly unofficially, of course - that we have our eye on them. If they are involved in a Code O, we'll know. And they'll know we know. No point in their trying anything here, not with Room 202 properly prepared. Still..."
"What, sir?"
"Pity the plant had to mention the Glimmung. Not sure we wanted them to know about that. Ah well, can't win 'em all, eh lad?"
The Holy Empire Categorically Denies the Existence of this RP |
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These were certainly high times for Bettian football. Not only had the Aroras done the business, but Northern Bettia had surpassed expectations by qualifying from a very tough group. All throughout the country, keen Fire Ants waited patiently for the announcement that would confirm who their team would be facing and, perhaps more importantly, where. In the meantime, the people took the time to celebrate their national team's heroics... but not all of them.
Deep within the inner sanctum of the Northern Bettian Military High Command, a very serious discussion was taking place.
As with all matters of national importance, High General Gwrlais Devanallt, de facto leader of Northern Bettia, chaired the meeting. He was sat at the head of a horseshoe-shaped table flanked on either side by his most trusted and loyal chiefs of the army, navy and air force, with a large Northern Bettian flag hung on the wall behind him. Also present were various scientists, historians and experts of all things not-quite-of-this-world, three fields of study which were normally given very short shrift in this militaristic nation.
Devanallt banged a gavel on the table and the faint yammering in the room immediately halted.
"Gentlemen. I've summoned you all here because I'm very concerned at this Frostican insurgant business. I see no reason why the Holy Empire would be spying on us or wishing to cause trouble for us in particular. I hope someone here has some answers for me."
"If I may, sir" a short-built man with thick round glasses, a small goatee beard and a typical scientist wacky hairstyle piped up. High General Devanallt nodded, and the man continued. "I'm Professor John Jarotoma, from the Ancient Studies Department of Anyuna University. Myself and my esteemed colleagues here have spent the last week or so analysing the interrogation of the man in question. How is he doing, by the way?"
"The last I heard, he was a gibbering wreck." answering General Barani, head of the army. "According to the man in charge of his - ahem - accommodation, he keeps blabbering about how this Mancy fellow will come soon to smite the Holy Empire and rule the world."
"Yes, quite. However, it was repeated references to 'Glimmung' that interested us. At first, everyone thought this was just the word 'glimming' spoken in a dodgy accent, but after some extensive research we have uncovered some rather interesting information..."
With that, Professor Jarotama produced multiple copies of a printout and handed them out to the high brass at the head of the table.Those that believe in the Oneiromancer claim that the Basileus has hidden the Glimmung in the legendary sunken cathedral of Heldscalla, deep under the ocean of the Holy Empire. He who finds the Glimmung may choose to unleash the Oneiromancer on an unsuspecting Dreamed Realm, or attempt to control the dread wizard of dreams for his own purposes.
"Interesting," High General Devanallt mused as he poured over that particular paragraph. "A jewel that can control an all-powerful evil wizard."
"Preposterous!" blasted Air-Marshal Matsunichi, head of the air force. "Stuff and nonsense and fairytales!"
High General Devanallt looked at him after this outburst. "So, how would you explain the Holy Empire's sudden interest in Northern Bettia? Why is this man here, and more importantly, are there any more?"
Professor Jarotama interjected. "We believe he may actually be a part of the Cult of the Oneiromancer mentioned further down the document."
"It also says that this cult and this 'Oneiromancer' are nothing but fairy tales." Matsunichi replied.
"Probably just false rumours to put off any would-be treasure-hunters. I wouldn't pay that too much heed."
"You still haven't answered the High General's question - what is he doing here in Northern Bettia?"
"The printout states that this Glimmung is located in a sunken cathedral under an ocean. If this place really exists, I have no do doubt this Heldscalla place would be heavily guarded and kept under strict observation... from above anyway, but from below? I highly doubt it."
"You STILL haven't answered the General!" Matsunichi growled. The professor sighed impatiently, clearly growing weary of this uneducated oaf.
"I'm getting there. During the suspect's interrogation, it was clear that he wasn't about to reveal his intentions so a number of images were displayed to him, and he seemed to show a particular interest in a picture of a giant ant."
"Hmmph! So what?!"
"That's exactly what we said at first - we thought nothing of it. But that's when it clicked. We believe that he was here, probably with a couple of chums, to procure some giant ants and use them to dig underground to this cathedral of theirs and get that Glimmung right under the noses of the Holy Empire."
"Oh, right. What a great idea." Matsunichi said sarcastically. "I seriously hope you're not expecting me to believe in all this magical nonsense."
"But is this stuff really nonsense? 'Cos if it is, what would you call that million or so spirit things materialising in Tiddles Park then? A fancy light show?"
High General Devanallt interrupted their bickering, and turned to the professor. "So you believe there may be some truth in your theory?"
"Well, it's one idea."
"Well I have a better one. Why don't we get a few thousand Morgrugyn worker ants working on a major tunnel and find this Glimmung for ourselves? From what you're saying, if we find that, we get to control this Oneiromancer bloke, and if we control the Oneiromancer, no nation on NS-Earth would dare to mess with us. We could take out entire regions with a click of our fingers."
"Heh. Talk about your weapons of mass destruction." General Barani said with a chuckle.
"Exactly." Devanallt replied, rubbing his hands together. "General, ready a deployment of worker ants. I want round-the-clock shifts. I want that tunnel built yesterday. Air-Marshal, I want reconnaisance flights from you - we need to find a physical location for this place, if there is one. Admiral, put your fleet on standby, just in case. Let's get a move on gentlemen, we haven't got a moment to spare."
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Different occasions often mean different things for different people. A birthday means the world to a child. Lailat-ul-qadr is THE night for praying. A holiday can be a lifesaver for some poor hard-working soul who earned it.
This time of year however always drives Bettians crazy - it's that brief lull in between qualifying and the world cup proper. It's that time that sees a mass exodus from these shores to whichever nation fate has decided that the Aroras will play their games in, a time when many families wave a happy goodbye to their loved ones and tell them to bring back a nice souvenir, or else.
This year's destination of choice is Ariddia, a rather apt destination seeing as the capital cities of our two nations are twinned, and back in the Pie & Pixie, the locals are sat ready in expectation, discussing the Aroras' first match against fellow AOians Fmjphoenix.
"Well, as long as they don't give us a good tonking again, I'll be happy." Ali said with a little chuckle.
"What's a tonking, Uncle Ali?" Fatarani asked from her rather unusual position sitting upside-down from an inflatable football fixed to the ceiling.
"It's when one team completely thrashes the living daylights out of the other."
"What, like Northern Bettian fans like to do other teams' fans?"
"No, not like that. It's when the team scores loads of goals."
"Ohhh, like we did against all the teams in our group?"
"Yes, that's right."
"Not like a Northern Bettian thrashing."
"No. In fact, their fans won't be doing any of that at all now that they've been drawn in the Holy Empire! Good job too - bloody morons."
At that point Junilun, who had been away for almost the entire day, suddenly appeared in the middle of the café, and she floated her way towards the counter muttering something under her breath.
"Hey sis! What's up?" Fatarani cried happily.
"Hmmm? Oh, I heard some rather disturbing rumours so I thought I'd go and check them out. I have some bad news - Northern Bettia are going to the Holy Empire."
"Yes, we know. It was on the news yesterday. They've got Schiavonia in the first game." Ali replied.
Junilun shook her head. "No, they're literally going to the Holy Empire - the army, air force, navy, the lot. They're wanting the Oneiromancer for themselves."
Fatarani gasped and pointed at her sister. "Ah! You said the O-word!"
"How do you know all this?" Ali asked.
"Oh, a little qariin told me."
"Qariin? You mean those little devil thingys that hang around and try and get you to do bad things?"
"Yep, that's them. It was one who hangs around with their navy chief."
"But why would a qariin tell you stuff like that?"
"Oh, qariin are wimps. They'll tell an ifrit anything if you apply the right pressure." she said with a sweet little glint in her eyes. "Allow me to demonstrate!"
With that, she lunged forward towards Ali and grabbed at something above his shoulder. All of a sudden, a hideous cry of fright could be heard and a small mottled red goblin-type creature could be seen trying hard to wrench itself free from the grip Junilun had around its neck.
Ali jumped back in shock. "That's a qariin?"
"Yes. Horrible, isn't it?"
"I'll say. It's red!"
Junilun laughed the best she could. She was doing her best to fit in, but like most of the world, she still didn't understand the average Bettian's dislike of the colour red. She glared at the qariin.
"You're going to tell me everything I want to know, qariin." she said coolly.
"Oh no I'm not!" it croaked.
"Yes you are!" she growled, tightening her hold.
"Alright, alright, just loosen your grip!" Junilun did so, and it breathed a sigh of relief. "What do you want to know?"
Junilin tittered - she was obviously enjoying this. "What did Uncle Ali have for breakfast 781 days ago?" The qariin gave her a strange look, which for a small mottled red goblin-type creature was nothing new.
"What kind of question is that, you dumb..."
It never got the chance to finish its sentence as, quick as a flash, Junilun once again got it in a stranglehold.
"Okay, okay! He had a bowl of porridge with half an apple cored and cut into thin slices on top, with a big mug of tea. Happy now?"
"Very" she said smugly as she let it go. The qariin slumped its head sadly and whimpered.
"That really hurt, you know."
Junilun looked less than impressed.
"So? What do you want me to do about it?"
The qariin looked at her out of the corner of its piggy red eyes.
"Well, you could allow me to have a good cry in your bosom!" it yelled as it suddenly jumped and reached out towards Junilun's chest. It didn't get very far though - the young ifrit was far too quick and she soon had its hand in a vice-like grip before proceeding to slam it up and down on the table like a rag doll.
"Bad qariin! Bad! Bad! Bad!" she growled as she repeatedly beat it across the tabletop before letting it go.
"See what I mean? Qariin are wimps, not to mention bloody perverts. Any ifrit can beat them up, even a child like Fatarani."
"I'm not a child, I'm 237 years old!" she pouted.
"But you CAN beat a qariin up, can't you sister?" Junilun said with that glint in her eye again.
Fatarani nodded and giggled, before catching the still-reeling qariin off-guard with a flying kick that sent it splatting up against a window. As she carried on with her game of Splat the Qariin, Junlinun turned to Ali and gave her adopted uncle a small hug. Ali hugged her back and kissed her tenderly on the forehead.
"I wish you wouldn't keep flying off to all parts of the world like that though - you had me worried, and at my age that's just what I don't need."
"I'm sorry Uncle, but it was important."
"Do you really believe those daft Northern types can actually fid that whajamacallit?"
"Not really, no. I informed the Grand Shura of our realm, and they told me to keep an eye on them, just to make sure..."
They were interrupted by a loud crash. They looked over to see Fatarani holding the qariin by its ankle and swinging it around over her head, sat in the middle of a pile of upturned chairs and grinning cheerfully.
"Okay Fatarani, I think that little creep's had enough now!"
This post has been edited by Bettia on Jun 8 2007, 03:43 AM |
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(OOC: this is another Holy Empire posting)
SOMEWHERE DEEP IN THE BOWELS OF SBIS HQ...
"Giant burrowing ants? Whose idea was that?"
"Lascaro's sir."
"Stroke of genius that, lad.... Giant burrowing ants... hysterical! That'll keep the Northern Bettians distracted for months."
"Aren't you concerned, sir?"
"What? About giant burrowing ants? You know as well as I do that they'd never get through the portal. Just let them believe the ants have made it through. Should keep us entertained, anyway."
"And what about this full-scale invasion, sir? Navy, airforce, tanks.... doesn't that worry you, sir?"
"Partially. I'll grudgingly concede that's a worry. Not that their armies could make it through the portal, mind, but we have to find a way of dealing with it that's not going to cause us too much of a problem. Have to discourage people from even making the attempt, you know..."
"What about Fluffy Bunny World, sir?"
"Fluffy Bunny World? The reality ruled by giant 2 metre tall intelligent pink fluffy rabbits? I like it! Absolutely! Let the Dread Lords Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail deal with the Northern Bettian armada! Stylites....."
"Yes sir!"
"Adjust that Northern Bettian portal.... if anyone armed tries to get through - anyone who's not a legitimate football supporter - send them to Fluffy Bunny World! Just make sure you let the ordinary supporters through. Don't want to cause an international incident here."
"Yes sir! And shall I give them a way out of Fluffy Bunny World?"
"Let the rabbits deal with that - but make sure you give Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail some sort of warning. Don't want a repeat of the last time we tried to send miscreants there. That got nasty...."
This post has been edited by Bettia on Jun 11 2007, 03:53 AM |
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Posts: 956 |
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Want to know why there were no Northern Bettians at the Schiavonia game? Read on...
It's World Cup time again, a time which inspires football supporters around the NS-globe to don their team's latest replica shirt, paint their faces in their national colours and knock up a quick non-league--explicitive removed-e style replica World Cup out of cardboard and tin foil, and Northern Bettia is no different. Demand for tickets is high, as is the hope amoungst the supporters that the lads can do the business. And so, they flock in their thousands to Sakura Park in downtown Anyuna where their Holy Empire hosts have provided a portal into their realm, eager to make their way to the Imperial Hippodrome for their opening match against Schiavonia.
Among these fans who are making this short journey, and making a hell of a lot of noise doing so, are our old friends Hiro and Massa along with the rest of the Yuna Crew, that oh-so-infamous band of troublemakers and bovverboys who now number in their thousands. Made up of off-duty squaddies and out-of-work neanderthals, they sure do make an intimidating sight marching defiantly down the middle of the main road approaching the stadium, flipping the finger at any motorist who dares to beep them for getting in the way.
Yes - true to form, Northern Bettia's fans are looking for trouble.
"Right lads, ready to rumble?" Hiro yelled as the portal came into sight, patting a baseball bat into the palm of his hand.
"Oh yes, those Frostican types are gonna get the twátting of their lives," Massa replied as he slipped on a pair of studded knuckledusters. "But aren't you worried about this whole Dreamed Realm thing? You remember what happened last time we tried to cause trouble in this alternate reality thing, don't you? You got zapped back here before you could lamp those monks."
"Ah yes, but that was The Archregimancy. This is the Holy Empire. Maybe different rules apply there."
"I'm not too sure about that. Ah well, we'll soon find out. Come on lads - let's get 'em!!" Massa yelled, charging forward. The others soon followed, rushing forward into their own little battle, all armed to the teeth with their brawling instruments of choice - bike chains, knives, doorknobs stuffed into an old sock - you name it, they had it. Onwards they rushed into the portal, shouting their heads off... then they stopped.
Something was wrong.
They had made it to the other side, but they weren't greeted by the sight of the magnificent Imperial Hippodrome. In fact, there wasn't a football stadium to be seen. Instead, the ten thousand or so Northern Bettians found themselves in the middle of a large, lush green field, bathed in sunlight and dotted with daisies and bluebells.
"Hey, what's going on?! This ain't the Hippodrome!" Hiro said.
His train of thought (what little there was of it) was broken by a scream of pain coming from one side of the group. They all turned and looked to see one of their number being viciously mauled by what looked like a trio of giant rabbits. A huge collective gasp rose up from the crew - except from Hiro. The only sound he made was a yell as he dashed forward and smacked one of the rabbits across the head with his bat. The three rabbits turned and glared at him with their large black eyes. Hiro was only too glad to glare back at them.
"What's your problem, big ears? Do I look like a fuçkin' carrot to you?" he snarled.
Behind him, the rest of the Yuna Crew gave a sinister chuckle.
"Sweet. Those Dreamed Realm types have given us some entertainment after all. Dunno about you guys, but I'm gonna enjoy this!"
Meanwhile, at the Northern Bettian military high command, High General Devanallt was in a meeting with his trusted underlings when a young soldier entered the room. Saluting a perfect salute, he addressed his leader.
"Sir. I have news regarding the search for the Glimmung."
An eyebrow immediately raised up on his head to signal his interest. "Go on."
"As per your orders, sonar scanning stations were secretly deployed at various points throughout the world, and we received a very interesting reading from station GC20520099."
At this point, he produced a large colour printout at what appeared to be a series of indeciferible splodges.
"What on earth is that?" the high general asked.
"It appears to be a large building located at the bottom of the ocean. It's got spires, buttresses, bell towers - everything we'd expect to see on a cathedral."
"A cathedral? Under the sea?" Devanallt mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Could this be Heldscalla itself?"
"If it is sir, you know what this means - we're within touching distance of gaining control over the Oneiromancer."
Devanallt couldn't help but smile at this prospect. He turned once again to the young soldier. "This sonar station that gave us this information - where is it?"
"That's the funny thing sir - it's around 50 miles off our southern shore."
"50 miles?" Devanallt spluttered, along with the rest of the assembled top brass before he quickly composed himself and sat himself back down in his chair. "Hmmmmm... 50 miles. I must say, that is odd."
"Not to mention too easy, sir." Admiral Shinobu added. "It all seems like a strange coincidence."
"Yes, yes... it does. But then again, it would explain what that Frostican we caught was doing here in the first place." the High General answered before turning to the Army chief. "General Barani - obtain the exact location of this site, and start the digging immediately!"
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Posts: 956 |
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"Come on ref, blow the bloody whistle!"
The tension inside the Pie & Pixie was, well, tense, for want of a better word. Thanks to a rare headed goal by Said bin Said Ismail, a below-par Aroras side had just snuck ahead in a rather edgy encounter with Assegai Developments. A huge groan rang out when the fourth official held up a board showing that there was still four minutes of injury time to be played. Bettia were just about hanging on by a thread to a vital lead that would see them safely through to the next round.
This certainly was not a good time for fingernails.
Ali sat nervously on his favourite stool behind the counter, joining in the communal 'Oh I hope they don't balls this up' with the rest of the customers as they all stared intently at the screen. Junilun sat next to him on the counter, arms folded, wondering just how a simple football match could mean so much to these funny little fleshlings. Behind him, Fatarani clung on to his shoulders, trying her best to reassure him.
"Don't worry Uncle Ali, I'm sure they'll win."
"Yes Uncle, and even if they don't it's not the end of the world. After all, it's only a game."
At that very moment, dozens of pairs of eyes tore themselves away from the HumungoScreen and stared directly at the young Ifrit.
"It's ONLY a game?" Fat Evan said, echoing the thoughts of all the other customers.
"Well, yes... isn't it Uncle?" she said, turning to Ali. The old man laughed.
"No, no, it's much more than that. It's a national pride thing. Each country needs something to rally behind, and if it wasn't for football, the whole world would probably be at war. Or something like that."
"Oh," she replied, raising her eyebrows. "Maybe if we had football in my realm, we wouldn't have this war going on."
"Maybe. Of course, if that didn't happen, you girls wouldn't have come here." he replied, before the switch on his kettle click. "Ah, good. I'm just popping back in the kitchen to make myself a cuppa. Hold the fort, will you Juni?"
Right at that moment, two figures suddenly appeared in front of Junilun. One was nothing more than a rather shapely shadow, whilst the other was a young teenage-looking girl who looked pretty normal, apart from her pale whitish-green skin and bright orange hair which tumbled down almost to her ankles.
"Hey Juni, you gotta come quick!" the shadow said.
"This is so cool." the other girl remarked.
"Why? What's going on?" Junilun asked.
"It's those Northern Bettians - they think they've only gone and found the Glimmung!"
"Yeah, and buried under the sea too!"
Junilun let out a loud laugh. "You're kidding? Everyone knows it doesn't exist, and even it if did, it wouldn't be in this world!"
Ali emerged from the kitchen, cup of tea in hand, and looked at the two newcomers.
"Oh? Friends of yours?"
"Yes! I'm Tharihi!" the shadowy girl said.
"And I'm Akhsaru!" the other girl added.
"We're just going out for a bit, Uncle Ali." Junilun said.
"Oooh! Can I come too?" Fatarani asked excitedly.
"I don't know. This ain't really the place for children." Tharihi said.
"I'm not a child, I'm 237 years old!" Fatarani pouted.
"Oh, come on then sis."
"And where are you girls going?"
"We're just going to piss the Northern Bettian army off! We'll be back soon, I promise!"
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Somewhere, in the bedrock deep under the oceans to the south of Northern Bettia, a large team of giant ants are feverishly tunneling (well, as feverishly as giant ants get, which probably isn't very much what with them being giant ants and all, but the writer was stuck for a better word. Look, they're just working bloody hard, okay?). They are supervised by a even larger team of soldiers, led by the head of the army himself, General Barani, who the High General of Northern Bettia has entrusted on this little quest to claim the ultimate power.
"What's our progress?" he barked at an subordinate.
"Sir, I believe we're pretty much there," the soldier replied as he compared a map with his GPS, which for some reason still worked despite them being a mile or two underground, such was the wonders of Bettian technology. "In fact, Heldscalla should be directly above us."
"I should hope so," Barani muttered. "I won't be too happy if we're being sent on a fool's errand."
"I'm sorry sir?"
"I said if Heldscalla's directly above us, don't you think we should be digging upwards?"
"Yes sir! You heard the general!" the soldier shouts.
The others responded, following his orders to the letter. Very soon, they broke through into a large opening. The general looked on as an advance party warily entered the cavern - ever since they started on this journey, he had held an uneasy feeling inside him, and he wished and hoped that nothing was giong to happen to his man as he saw glimpses of their flashlights flickering in the distance.
"Well? What have we got?" Barani yelled.
"Sir... you gotta see this. This is simply amazing!"
Barani gave the nod, and he entered the cavern along with the others. As soon as he entered the cavern, he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks as he realised this wasn't a cavern after all - it was a basilca-style hallway, with two rows of columns running the length of the room hiding smaller and darker side-passages. He looked in awe up towards the arched roof - it was cracked here and there with the odd chunk missing, but apart from that it was still in fairly good nick. In fact, traces of highly-detailed paintings could still be made out, although he couldn't tell what they were meant to be in this dim light.
He could also see rows of pointed-arch stained glass windows running at high level, all depicting some kind of religious scene - he didn't know who or what they were meant to be, and quite frankly he couldn't care less. The only thing he wondered was just how they were staying intact so deep under the sea - surely the massive water pressure would've blown them in ages ago.
It was then he spotted the glow which was only just visible at the end of the hall, a greenish light that seemed to shine as bright as a beacon in these gloomy surroundings despite being so faint in reality.
"That must be it! Let's go!"
They rushed forward with just a hint of excitement, drawn to the glow like moths to a flame, sprinting with their guns drawn ready, just in case. The hallway ended in a T-junction and the regiment turned to the right, following the light.
And that was when they saw it...
There in front of them, sat proudly on a small pedestal was the source of the light - a large green gem that was cut so intricately, it seemed there was no way it was done by a human. They all stopped and stared in awe for a moment.
"Wow!" one soldier murmured. "Is that really the Glimmung?"
"Amazing. Just look at that thing!" another replied.
"No! Don't look at it. DON'T!" the general yelled, remembering the legend about it sending all who gazed at it insane. That was just the reminder the others needed, and they all averted their eyes just in time. A plucky young private took a small thick bag out of his pocket and started walking towards it, keeped his eyes firmly drawn to the floor. Tentatively, he walked forwards before being rudely interrupted by a young blue-haired girl poking her face in front of his.
"Hello mister!" Fatarani said, waving and grinning cheekily.
"Get this child out of here!" barked General Barani.
"I'm not a child, I'm 237 years old!" Fatarani pouted. "I don't like you. You're nasty. You all are!"
"Get her out of here!" the General said, repeating his order.
The young soldier obiently draw his gun, as did the rest of his colleagues, and they all trained them at the young girl as she levitated a few feet off the ground in front of them.
"PUT YOUR HANDS UP SLOWLY!" the soldier at the front yelled.
"Why? What have I done?" she asked innocently.
"Do as I say! NOW!"
"No."
"I'm warning you. Put your hands up!"
Fatarani petulantly folded her arms and sat cross-legged in mid-air, looking to one side with her nose in the air. "Make me."
"This is your last warning. Surrender now!"
"No. YOU surrender." Fatarani said as she wiggled a finger in the lead soldier's direction. Suddenly, he was whipped off his feet by some unseen force and he landed on the floor with a hard bump.
"OPEN FIRE!!"
At the general's command, a number of the soldiers unloaded their weapons, pumping round upon round of ammunition into Fatarani for a good five, maybe ten seconds, and as they did so the whole room slowly became enveloped in a cloud of hazy smoke. The soldiers stopped firing and waited in silence as the smoke lifted, and from out a nowhere, a soft giggling could be heard.
"Tee hee! That tickled!"
The soldiers gasped in astonishment as Fatarani's form began to appear in the fading mist. Instictively, they raised their guns and prepared to fire once again, but before they had the chance to do so, every single gun in the room began to glow red hot - too hot for any of the brave lads of the Northern Bettian army to handle, and so they dropped them onto the floor with a yelp. They looked on in amazement as they slowly melted into untidy puddles.
"Please don't shoot my little sister - it's most impolite."
They looked up, and behind Fatarani they saw Junlinun facing them standing in front of the jewel. She was flanked by Tharihi and Akhsaru, who held a glowing orange hand up in front of her.
"Hey soldier boys, what's up?" Tharihi said with a grin - well, she probably would have been grinning if she had a face, but being nothing more than a shadow it was impossible to tell.
"I don't know that hell you girls are, but you won't stand in our way! Seize them!" the general yelled as she jabbed a finger in their direction.
"I don't think so!" Tharihi replied as she waved her hand in front of her. Suddenly, the soldiers all found themselves frozen, rooted to the spot and unable to move.
"What do you think you're doing?" Barani asked as Junilun strode up to the pedestal and picked up the jewel.
"Hmmm... pretty." she said as she held it up and inspected it. "Shame about the small bubble in the middle."
"Bubble?" the general spluttered.
"Sure! Check it out!" Junilun smiled as she brought it so the general could see for himself. Sure enough, a small bubble could just about be seen behind the gemstone's many faces.
"But... but I don't understand."
"Man, you fleshlings are slow! This so-called Glimmung is a fake. This whole place is a fake - just a small pocket of the Dreamed Realm placed on this NS-Earth by the Frostican authorities to fool you female sexual organs, and you fell for it big time!"
The general's head drooped. "This whole thing has been a complete waste of time." he said despondantly. "I've been so stupid."
"Aww, don't be sad Mister Shiny-Head!" Fatarani said, patting his balding pate as she gave him a comforting hug.
"My sister's right - I wouldn't take this failure too hard. Any fleshling would've been fooled by this clever illusion." Junilun added. "That's what happens when you try to mess with powers you don't understand. There's no point in you staying here, just like the people who dreamed this place up no longer have any point in keeping it in existance. Time for you guys to go home!"
With that and a flick of her wrist, the soldiers suddenly found themselves back at the Northern Bettian army HQ. Blinking in the sunlight, they prepared themselves for their earlier-than-expected debriefing...
Elsewhere in the barracks, Hiro sat at a table writing a letter.
"A letter? Who's that for?" Massa asked as he walked in.
"It's for the Frostican government, just to say thank you for such a cracking time." he said as he loked up at the three-foot long rabbit's foot hung on the wall above him.
"Heh. It was fun, wasn't it?" Massa chuckled. "Come on then - let's see what you've written."
Dear Frosty blokes
On behaf of the Yuna Crew, I am riting to say thank yu for sending us to that rabit plase. We always thort yu were a bunch of boring smug female sexual organs siting in yur clowds, but yu shor no how to entertayn visiting fans. Sure, we lost a cupel of hundred of our boys, but fiting giant rabits was much more fun than waching footbal. I am rekomending to my komanding ofisers that we use your giant rabit plase for training, with yur permishun, of corse.
Thanks
Sgt. Hiro Keitaro, 6th Regiment
"So? Will that do?" Hiro asked
"I suppose. There may be one or two spelling mistakes, but at least you didn't write it in crayon like you usually do."
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We don't do defence |
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Posts: 956 |
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