The Fault in Our Fionas
Posted: Wed Nov 14, 2018 3:14 pm
24 Vhalar 718
Dubu, greatest of the Greater Bears of the United Kingdom of the Great and Lesser Bears, stared down at the Watoto of Mtu, the foreigners who had so rudely and loudly burst into the middle of their celebration, the celebration of the unification of Dunia after so many centuries of bitter, bitter war. Peace had been bought at a steep price, and though the greatest of the Greater Bears, the least of the Lesser Bears, the High Priestess of the Water Buffalo, the Old King of the Tribes of Hip and Po, the Vizier of the Meerkat Collective, the Governor of the State of Long-Necks, and the Child Prophet of the Baboon Theocracy had all attended the event upon the neutral ground of Undongo Waardhi, their tensions had run high.
And now, they were fit to shatter.
“They’re not real.” Fiona said loudly, staring up at Dubu, Greatest of the Greater Bears. The incredibly convincing offense on Dubu’s long-snouted face said otherwise. “They’re apparitions, figments of some sick mind who clearly lives in a fantasy wonderland where animals govern our every law and whim.”
“Silence, Watoto of Mtu - Grave Eater of the Seventh Night!” Dubu growled. “You stand trial in our holy court now. You will respect our traditions.”
The pale being beside her blinked, his bright eyes almost sorcerous in the silver light of the moon crystals that decorated the Hall of Law wherein they had brought their newfound prisoners. “What is a ‘watoto’ and where is-”
“Silence.” Dubu may have been the greatest of the Greater Bears, but that didn’t mean his patience was comparable to his position.
Tumbili, the Child Prophet of the Baboon Theocracy, tall and thin, shook her hairy head - red nose flaring in thought. “They speak our language, but they do not seem to understand.”
“Look,” Fiona said, turning to her pale companion. “this is the least objectionable dream we’ve yet to encounter. I say we take the time to catch our breath. Let his farce play out.”
The pale one nodded and spoke no more.
“They speak of us as illusions!” came the voice of the Witch-Queen Hama, first of the Hyena diggers. “They speak of us as if we were not here! Their taint is steep, their wills are alien. Do we condemn them… or prostrate before them and learn their deep sorceries.” Hama smiled a wicked smile. “For the good of all, of course. For the good of all...”
Fiona pointed at Hama. “I think she’s the evil one.”
“She did just smile a wicked smile, so I would assume that is safe to assert.” Mathias tilted his head as he spoke, and all the creatures gasped - except for Kombamwiko, the Deep-Lord of the Dung Beetles. He chittered instead.
“SILENCE.” Dubu leapt down from his high podium, reared back his great head, and roared in Mathias’ face. Actually, he tried to roar in Fiona’s face but she quickly took a step back and to the side of their little box, pushing Mathias forward to face the slavering, roaring jaws of Dubu, Greatest of the Greater Bears with bright, fascinated eyes that squinted against the rush of hot, meat-ridden air that burst forth from Dubu’s great maw. “Obey the will of this court lest we deem you guilty by contempt.”
“That is not your decision to make, old fool.” Hama warned. “Secrets lost, secrets lost to justice! So much could be learned from their dark sorceries!”
“Hama,” A new voice - the low, gentle hum of Tembo the Caretaker of the Grove, Gentle Guardian of the Gazelles. He was ancient, at least seven years old, and his horns grew tall and winding. His pale, blind eyes were kindly, yet his soft reprimand was filled with patriarchal authority, “You are here out of the deep respect we still harbor for your mother, Amah the Queen-Witch. Do not overstep your welcome.” Other animals murmured quietly in agreement.
Hama threw her snout back and loosed a cackle of defiance. “Then perhaps you will know fear of me instead…”
Though there were only fifteen podiums arranged in a circle around the two individuals in the center of the octogonal room, all along the eight walls were gathered animals of all shapes and sizes. Among them was a large following of hyenas who whooped and hollered at Hama’s challenge, their pleasure loud and raucous.
Fiona leaned over to whisper in Mathias’ saliva-flooded ear. “I apologize for ever calling you a primitive cannibal. You don’t stack up to the real deal.”
“What?” Mathias replied, tapping on the opposite side of his head in an attempt to dislodge the viscous mucus from the ear closest to her.
“Look! Look!” The shrill cry of Panya the Vizier of the Meercat Collective pierced throught he cacophony as he jumped up and down upon his podium. “Even now they seek to use our discord as cover to conspire! To conspire!”
“Can we start from the beginning, guys.” Fiona said, putting up both hands to try to ease the literal horde of animals demanding their heads. “What are we being accused of? What crime have we committed? I have spent my life caring for animals-”
Mathias stared at her and, quite intentionally, snorted in disbelief.
“-I am a friend to all livings creatures of the world.” Her lips quivered; she suppressed what was clearly a deep urge to laugh her head off.
Dubu raised a heavy, considering brow, before he finally settled on a grunt of acquiescence. “Fine. Fine. Msomaji, the charges.”
Msomaji, Daughter of Mwandishi of the Lowland Roaming Flamingo Nomads, nodded her bulbos pink head - beady yellow eye staring down at a torn leaf in one of her black, dextrous claws. “Uh… yes, it’s uh…” Msomaji may have been the greatest nomadic scribe known to Dunia, but she was cripplingly terrified of public speaking. “Y-you see-”
Kiboko, the Old King of the Tribes of Hip and Po, let out a heavy sigh, his massive form rippling from the whoosh of air. “No needa’ trama-lize that there Meesomohjee.” He shook his great, square-toothed head, and the other hippopotami echoed his motion - a subsequent wet flapping of tiny ears against blubbery skin filled the room. “Any wonna us can give these Wa Totos of Me Too a rec-erection of what went down before they went down.”
The other hippos all echoed a religious, “...before they went down.”
Kubeba Kidogo, the Least of the Lesser Bears, raised his tiny paw. “Allow me, Msomaji!”
Her pink head nodded in acceptance of his substitution, beady eye filled with thankful relief.
“Watotos of Mtu,” Kubeba Kidogo began, his proportionally large hazel eyes wide with gravitas, “You stand accused of sabotage, terrorism, and murder.” The animals gathered all gasped - again, except for Kombamwiko, the Deep-Lord of the Dung Beetles, who sort of rubbed his legs together in what was probably surprise. Kubeba Kidogo nodded sagely, before he paused, then shook his head, speaking a bit softer this time. “Er… wait, not murder just the first two things.”
“Which one do you think is the dreamer, shield maiden?” Fiona nudged her head towards Dubu, then shook it. “Too obvious, no? Maybe he -or she- has a bit of a villian fantasy.” Her gaze went to Hama.
“How do you plead?” Dubu, greatest of the Greater Bears.
“Confused,” Mathias replied, though with his eyes on the flamingo instead of the giant bear in answer to Fiona’s question.
“Con-” Dubu, the greatest of the Greater Bears shook his shaggy head once before anger boiled over once more, “Confused is not an acceptable or recognized plea!”
“Unsure,” came Fiona’s answer. “You’ll have to narrow it down. My acts of sabotage are legion.”
“Legion! She is of the dark!” Cackled Hama, wildly waving her furred paws in a maniacal dance of an ancient ritual of shadows.
“Hama, please,” moaned Tembo the Caretaker of the Grove, Gentle Guardian of the Gazelles. “Things are confusing enough as they are.”
“What, exactly, did you think we did?” Mathias tried again, to the point, bright eyes still settled on the now very, very nervous pink flamingo who wished she had never put down her other leg that morning.
“You attempted to dissolve the newly formed Federation of Friendship.” Kubeba Kidogo chimed in as the hyenas began a rhythmic chant in time to Hama’s continued ritual as Tembo started to bang his horns against his podium off-rhythm to confuse her.
“I would never.” Fiona protested indignantly over the rising ruckus as more and more animals began to get involved in the Witch-Queen and Gentle Guardian’s stand-off. It was almost believable. “We are but two ordinary humans trying to find our way to, uh, a watering hole.”
“A watering what?” Mathias blinked.
Fiona shrugged. “I’m starting to think we should take our chances with the next dream.”
He nodded, though there was, as always, a question on his lips. “Is it possible to exit from-”
Dubu, greatest of the Greater Bears of the United Kingdom of the Great and Lesser Bears, stared down at the Watoto of Mtu, the foreigners who had so rudely and loudly burst into the middle of their celebration, the celebration of the unification of Dunia after so many centuries of bitter, bitter war. Peace had been bought at a steep price, and though the greatest of the Greater Bears, the least of the Lesser Bears, the High Priestess of the Water Buffalo, the Old King of the Tribes of Hip and Po, the Vizier of the Meerkat Collective, the Governor of the State of Long-Necks, and the Child Prophet of the Baboon Theocracy had all attended the event upon the neutral ground of Undongo Waardhi, their tensions had run high.
And now, they were fit to shatter.
“They’re not real.” Fiona said loudly, staring up at Dubu, Greatest of the Greater Bears. The incredibly convincing offense on Dubu’s long-snouted face said otherwise. “They’re apparitions, figments of some sick mind who clearly lives in a fantasy wonderland where animals govern our every law and whim.”
“Silence, Watoto of Mtu - Grave Eater of the Seventh Night!” Dubu growled. “You stand trial in our holy court now. You will respect our traditions.”
The pale being beside her blinked, his bright eyes almost sorcerous in the silver light of the moon crystals that decorated the Hall of Law wherein they had brought their newfound prisoners. “What is a ‘watoto’ and where is-”
“Silence.” Dubu may have been the greatest of the Greater Bears, but that didn’t mean his patience was comparable to his position.
Tumbili, the Child Prophet of the Baboon Theocracy, tall and thin, shook her hairy head - red nose flaring in thought. “They speak our language, but they do not seem to understand.”
“Look,” Fiona said, turning to her pale companion. “this is the least objectionable dream we’ve yet to encounter. I say we take the time to catch our breath. Let his farce play out.”
The pale one nodded and spoke no more.
“They speak of us as illusions!” came the voice of the Witch-Queen Hama, first of the Hyena diggers. “They speak of us as if we were not here! Their taint is steep, their wills are alien. Do we condemn them… or prostrate before them and learn their deep sorceries.” Hama smiled a wicked smile. “For the good of all, of course. For the good of all...”
Fiona pointed at Hama. “I think she’s the evil one.”
“She did just smile a wicked smile, so I would assume that is safe to assert.” Mathias tilted his head as he spoke, and all the creatures gasped - except for Kombamwiko, the Deep-Lord of the Dung Beetles. He chittered instead.
“SILENCE.” Dubu leapt down from his high podium, reared back his great head, and roared in Mathias’ face. Actually, he tried to roar in Fiona’s face but she quickly took a step back and to the side of their little box, pushing Mathias forward to face the slavering, roaring jaws of Dubu, Greatest of the Greater Bears with bright, fascinated eyes that squinted against the rush of hot, meat-ridden air that burst forth from Dubu’s great maw. “Obey the will of this court lest we deem you guilty by contempt.”
“That is not your decision to make, old fool.” Hama warned. “Secrets lost, secrets lost to justice! So much could be learned from their dark sorceries!”
“Hama,” A new voice - the low, gentle hum of Tembo the Caretaker of the Grove, Gentle Guardian of the Gazelles. He was ancient, at least seven years old, and his horns grew tall and winding. His pale, blind eyes were kindly, yet his soft reprimand was filled with patriarchal authority, “You are here out of the deep respect we still harbor for your mother, Amah the Queen-Witch. Do not overstep your welcome.” Other animals murmured quietly in agreement.
Hama threw her snout back and loosed a cackle of defiance. “Then perhaps you will know fear of me instead…”
Though there were only fifteen podiums arranged in a circle around the two individuals in the center of the octogonal room, all along the eight walls were gathered animals of all shapes and sizes. Among them was a large following of hyenas who whooped and hollered at Hama’s challenge, their pleasure loud and raucous.
Fiona leaned over to whisper in Mathias’ saliva-flooded ear. “I apologize for ever calling you a primitive cannibal. You don’t stack up to the real deal.”
“What?” Mathias replied, tapping on the opposite side of his head in an attempt to dislodge the viscous mucus from the ear closest to her.
“Look! Look!” The shrill cry of Panya the Vizier of the Meercat Collective pierced throught he cacophony as he jumped up and down upon his podium. “Even now they seek to use our discord as cover to conspire! To conspire!”
“Can we start from the beginning, guys.” Fiona said, putting up both hands to try to ease the literal horde of animals demanding their heads. “What are we being accused of? What crime have we committed? I have spent my life caring for animals-”
Mathias stared at her and, quite intentionally, snorted in disbelief.
“-I am a friend to all livings creatures of the world.” Her lips quivered; she suppressed what was clearly a deep urge to laugh her head off.
Dubu raised a heavy, considering brow, before he finally settled on a grunt of acquiescence. “Fine. Fine. Msomaji, the charges.”
Msomaji, Daughter of Mwandishi of the Lowland Roaming Flamingo Nomads, nodded her bulbos pink head - beady yellow eye staring down at a torn leaf in one of her black, dextrous claws. “Uh… yes, it’s uh…” Msomaji may have been the greatest nomadic scribe known to Dunia, but she was cripplingly terrified of public speaking. “Y-you see-”
Kiboko, the Old King of the Tribes of Hip and Po, let out a heavy sigh, his massive form rippling from the whoosh of air. “No needa’ trama-lize that there Meesomohjee.” He shook his great, square-toothed head, and the other hippopotami echoed his motion - a subsequent wet flapping of tiny ears against blubbery skin filled the room. “Any wonna us can give these Wa Totos of Me Too a rec-erection of what went down before they went down.”
The other hippos all echoed a religious, “...before they went down.”
Kubeba Kidogo, the Least of the Lesser Bears, raised his tiny paw. “Allow me, Msomaji!”
Her pink head nodded in acceptance of his substitution, beady eye filled with thankful relief.
“Watotos of Mtu,” Kubeba Kidogo began, his proportionally large hazel eyes wide with gravitas, “You stand accused of sabotage, terrorism, and murder.” The animals gathered all gasped - again, except for Kombamwiko, the Deep-Lord of the Dung Beetles, who sort of rubbed his legs together in what was probably surprise. Kubeba Kidogo nodded sagely, before he paused, then shook his head, speaking a bit softer this time. “Er… wait, not murder just the first two things.”
“Which one do you think is the dreamer, shield maiden?” Fiona nudged her head towards Dubu, then shook it. “Too obvious, no? Maybe he -or she- has a bit of a villian fantasy.” Her gaze went to Hama.
“How do you plead?” Dubu, greatest of the Greater Bears.
“Confused,” Mathias replied, though with his eyes on the flamingo instead of the giant bear in answer to Fiona’s question.
“Con-” Dubu, the greatest of the Greater Bears shook his shaggy head once before anger boiled over once more, “Confused is not an acceptable or recognized plea!”
“Unsure,” came Fiona’s answer. “You’ll have to narrow it down. My acts of sabotage are legion.”
“Legion! She is of the dark!” Cackled Hama, wildly waving her furred paws in a maniacal dance of an ancient ritual of shadows.
“Hama, please,” moaned Tembo the Caretaker of the Grove, Gentle Guardian of the Gazelles. “Things are confusing enough as they are.”
“What, exactly, did you think we did?” Mathias tried again, to the point, bright eyes still settled on the now very, very nervous pink flamingo who wished she had never put down her other leg that morning.
“You attempted to dissolve the newly formed Federation of Friendship.” Kubeba Kidogo chimed in as the hyenas began a rhythmic chant in time to Hama’s continued ritual as Tembo started to bang his horns against his podium off-rhythm to confuse her.
“I would never.” Fiona protested indignantly over the rising ruckus as more and more animals began to get involved in the Witch-Queen and Gentle Guardian’s stand-off. It was almost believable. “We are but two ordinary humans trying to find our way to, uh, a watering hole.”
“A watering what?” Mathias blinked.
Fiona shrugged. “I’m starting to think we should take our chances with the next dream.”
He nodded, though there was, as always, a question on his lips. “Is it possible to exit from-”
