Post by Grimscott on Nov 21, 2010 1:10:44 GMT -5
So uh, a while ago Zarth and Kromax just kind of exploded all these shenanigans at me AND I HAD TO WRITE IT, MANGO. I HAD TO.
You can thank/curse those two for this.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Brawl City was having a remarkably quiet day. The birds were singing, the streets were bustling, and Balto-Boy had gone at least seventy-two hours without forcing himself on another male in a sexual manner. No alien takeovers. No zombie outbreaks. No Illidon about to start his period. Everything was gravy.
This peace, like all things, was temporary, but these lovely yet short moments were a thing to be cherished in the usual fast-paced action of the city. Even the civilians who often came to Brawl in the first place for such adrenaline rushes could appreciate it. Except. . .
At the Really Really Tall Tower, twenty stories up, two figures argued.
This building was considered to be the Brawlers' office, Brawl HQ, which was less of an office and more of a place for Brawlers to use as a break room of sorts. Brawlers could be seen resting on couches or chairs, eating junk food from the vending machine, watching television, or discussing and organizing future fights.
The only thing that stood out was a structure made of cardboard boxes. A pretty good amount of cardboard boxes, too. Enough to form a small "room". But instead of a door, there was a sheet that covered the open entryway. Written near the entrance were the words Administrator's Office. It stood proudly, no less than eight feet tall and thirteen feet wide.
The previously mentioned disagreeing duo were in this makeshift office. Sitting at a "desk" made of more cardboard boxes was Balto-Boy: a. . .dog. . .wolf. . .man. . .thing. His fur was a soft shade of brown, and he never wore anything more than his comfy blue jeans and his glove. That's just the way he liked it. Balto had also recently taken up chain-smoking cigars in order to seem more official and serious.
Even now, he had an unlit, freshly cut cigar poking out from the side of his mouth. "Loooooooooook, all I'm sayin is you can be pretty organized sometimes. Which is odd. But yeah." He shrugged.
"Your face is odd." The younger woman he was speaking to retorted quickly. She was known as Grimscott. She had long, thick, slightly messy hair that was as brown as his fur. Her apparel was a bit odd, being comprised of: A very large green top hat that didn't always stand up straight, a red and green plaid kilt held up by a very large brown belt with a square, golden buckle, a matching sash adorned with a silver sheriff's badge and a yellow smiley face button, a green sleeveless shirt, white mittens, and equally white sneakers.
Balto folded his arms and raised an eyebrow.
"No, really! It's like, your mouth starts barely hanging onto the side of your face sometimes and it's really odd, ever consider getting to a doctor about that?"
Balto rolled his eyes. "I don't see what got a little dirt into your skirt about all this, but-"
"IT'S NOT A SKIRT and at least I brush my teeth!" Grim interrupted with a huff.
Balto gasped before abruptly slamming his hand to the lower half of his face, partially covering his open mouth, which did indeed reveal some very yellow teeth. It took him a moment to regain his composure. But seeing Grimscott's smirk egged him on.
"You must become the secretary of Brawl HQ!"
"No. That's stupid. You're stupid."
"I urge you to do this!" Balto had a desperate look in his eyes, the eyes of a man about to go over the edge. He looked about ready to chew through his cigar.
"I don't wanna be a secretary! At least give me a cool title like archagent or something, but secretary? Really?"
Balto just stared, keeping that desperate look.
"Hey, no. No. I am not going to be all 'You need to be scheduled to see mister Balto' or 'The admin likes his coffee with extra fabulous' or whatever it is you crazy kids like these days!"
The mayor simply chuckled to himself and grinned. "Yeah, well you gotta do what I say, cuz I'm the mayor."
His chuckling was interrupted by the heavy steps of a fellow moderator Brawler. The cardboard boxes shook uncertainly as this giant moved along. Balto-Boy quickly rushed over to hold up the less secure parts of his office, as Grimscott hurried to remove several boxes to widen the walkway. The latter action proved unnecessary as the behemoth poked his head through the entrance of the office.
"Hey. . .you guys aren't arguing, right?" He wore a gray hoodie and had a black, messy bowlcut with three wild hairs poking out from the top of his head.
The two Brawlers avoided eye contact, whether it was with the heavyset teen or each other.
"Uh. No, John. We weren't." Balto muttered.
John's eyes widened and tears began to form. "You're lying! YOU ALWAYS LIE. YOU TWO SAID YOU WOULD STOP ARGUING!" He took off, sobbing and bellowing, shaking the ground violently as he stormed through the building. Brawlers dove out of the way or hid behind others to avoid being squished to pulp. During this turbulence, Balto-Boy's office finally gave up and collapsed. The young scot managed to spring out of the office at just the right moment, while the anthropomorphic administrator chose to use his body to guard the various items on his desk: A new computer, a microphone for the PA system and a plush Pikachu doll.
Grimscott stood there for a moment, pondering whether to take this as a chance to abscond, or simply assist the dog-wolf thing out of the mess. But before she could make a decision, a gloved fist rose triumphantly from the cardboard rubble, having a firm but gentle grip on the Pikachu toy. Soon, he managed to pull the rest of himself out of the wreckage. As he did this, his body flicked a switch on the microphone, indicating that it was now on. Not noticing the action, he began digging for his computer, cursing quietly to himself.
"I guess you could say," Grimmy started, pulling out a pair of sunglasses, "That you were never very good at boxing!" She put them on, grinning maniacally as she did so.
Balto glared. The hatter took this as a signal to get serious.
". . .anyway. I can't be secretary because of a certain rule you are ignoring!" Grim had a very dire look on her face.
"Really now?" Balto was curious. Tired and annoyed but curious.
"A very important rule, yes."
"Out with it, then."
"Well, you see, Balto. . .Simply put, I am a PIRATE."
In the streets, traffic halted. People stopped and stared. Some at each other, some at the speakers placed in various places on buildings. This announcement bounced from wall to wall, building to building, street to street, echoing throughout the city with a resounding finality.
Balto-Boy simply gaped in pure confusion. Grim would have gotten some joy from this, if she wasn't already currently incredibly busy with making things up.
"Pirates can't be secretaries! Making a pirate into a secretary is an incredibly unorthodox decision!"
Balto sighed. "Oh for cryin' out loud. That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Just HOW high do you have to BE to even make shit up like that?" When he was done rolling his eyes, a very large book, no, a TOME slammed into his face. This thing was huge. As he pulled it off, Balto was honestly surprised that he hadn't just been struck by some sort of X-Box. This thing would take forever to read. He rubbed his face and read the cover; The Joys of Rules. He looked up at Grimscott.
The hatter was backing away now. "Check in there, you'll see what I mean! It's in there, mango. It's all there." She appeared to have materialized a suitcase and Groucho Marx glasses.
Before he could stop her, she was already out the window.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
TO BE CONTINUED. . .
You can thank/curse those two for this.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PROLOGUE: BORN TO BE KINGS
Brawl City was having a remarkably quiet day. The birds were singing, the streets were bustling, and Balto-Boy had gone at least seventy-two hours without forcing himself on another male in a sexual manner. No alien takeovers. No zombie outbreaks. No Illidon about to start his period. Everything was gravy.
This peace, like all things, was temporary, but these lovely yet short moments were a thing to be cherished in the usual fast-paced action of the city. Even the civilians who often came to Brawl in the first place for such adrenaline rushes could appreciate it. Except. . .
At the Really Really Tall Tower, twenty stories up, two figures argued.
This building was considered to be the Brawlers' office, Brawl HQ, which was less of an office and more of a place for Brawlers to use as a break room of sorts. Brawlers could be seen resting on couches or chairs, eating junk food from the vending machine, watching television, or discussing and organizing future fights.
The only thing that stood out was a structure made of cardboard boxes. A pretty good amount of cardboard boxes, too. Enough to form a small "room". But instead of a door, there was a sheet that covered the open entryway. Written near the entrance were the words Administrator's Office. It stood proudly, no less than eight feet tall and thirteen feet wide.
The previously mentioned disagreeing duo were in this makeshift office. Sitting at a "desk" made of more cardboard boxes was Balto-Boy: a. . .dog. . .wolf. . .man. . .thing. His fur was a soft shade of brown, and he never wore anything more than his comfy blue jeans and his glove. That's just the way he liked it. Balto had also recently taken up chain-smoking cigars in order to seem more official and serious.
Even now, he had an unlit, freshly cut cigar poking out from the side of his mouth. "Loooooooooook, all I'm sayin is you can be pretty organized sometimes. Which is odd. But yeah." He shrugged.
"Your face is odd." The younger woman he was speaking to retorted quickly. She was known as Grimscott. She had long, thick, slightly messy hair that was as brown as his fur. Her apparel was a bit odd, being comprised of: A very large green top hat that didn't always stand up straight, a red and green plaid kilt held up by a very large brown belt with a square, golden buckle, a matching sash adorned with a silver sheriff's badge and a yellow smiley face button, a green sleeveless shirt, white mittens, and equally white sneakers.
Balto folded his arms and raised an eyebrow.
"No, really! It's like, your mouth starts barely hanging onto the side of your face sometimes and it's really odd, ever consider getting to a doctor about that?"
Balto rolled his eyes. "I don't see what got a little dirt into your skirt about all this, but-"
"IT'S NOT A SKIRT and at least I brush my teeth!" Grim interrupted with a huff.
Balto gasped before abruptly slamming his hand to the lower half of his face, partially covering his open mouth, which did indeed reveal some very yellow teeth. It took him a moment to regain his composure. But seeing Grimscott's smirk egged him on.
"You must become the secretary of Brawl HQ!"
"No. That's stupid. You're stupid."
"I urge you to do this!" Balto had a desperate look in his eyes, the eyes of a man about to go over the edge. He looked about ready to chew through his cigar.
"I don't wanna be a secretary! At least give me a cool title like archagent or something, but secretary? Really?"
Balto just stared, keeping that desperate look.
"Hey, no. No. I am not going to be all 'You need to be scheduled to see mister Balto' or 'The admin likes his coffee with extra fabulous' or whatever it is you crazy kids like these days!"
The mayor simply chuckled to himself and grinned. "Yeah, well you gotta do what I say, cuz I'm the mayor."
His chuckling was interrupted by the heavy steps of a fellow moderator Brawler. The cardboard boxes shook uncertainly as this giant moved along. Balto-Boy quickly rushed over to hold up the less secure parts of his office, as Grimscott hurried to remove several boxes to widen the walkway. The latter action proved unnecessary as the behemoth poked his head through the entrance of the office.
"Hey. . .you guys aren't arguing, right?" He wore a gray hoodie and had a black, messy bowlcut with three wild hairs poking out from the top of his head.
The two Brawlers avoided eye contact, whether it was with the heavyset teen or each other.
"Uh. No, John. We weren't." Balto muttered.
John's eyes widened and tears began to form. "You're lying! YOU ALWAYS LIE. YOU TWO SAID YOU WOULD STOP ARGUING!" He took off, sobbing and bellowing, shaking the ground violently as he stormed through the building. Brawlers dove out of the way or hid behind others to avoid being squished to pulp. During this turbulence, Balto-Boy's office finally gave up and collapsed. The young scot managed to spring out of the office at just the right moment, while the anthropomorphic administrator chose to use his body to guard the various items on his desk: A new computer, a microphone for the PA system and a plush Pikachu doll.
Grimscott stood there for a moment, pondering whether to take this as a chance to abscond, or simply assist the dog-wolf thing out of the mess. But before she could make a decision, a gloved fist rose triumphantly from the cardboard rubble, having a firm but gentle grip on the Pikachu toy. Soon, he managed to pull the rest of himself out of the wreckage. As he did this, his body flicked a switch on the microphone, indicating that it was now on. Not noticing the action, he began digging for his computer, cursing quietly to himself.
"I guess you could say," Grimmy started, pulling out a pair of sunglasses, "That you were never very good at boxing!" She put them on, grinning maniacally as she did so.
Balto glared. The hatter took this as a signal to get serious.
". . .anyway. I can't be secretary because of a certain rule you are ignoring!" Grim had a very dire look on her face.
"Really now?" Balto was curious. Tired and annoyed but curious.
"A very important rule, yes."
"Out with it, then."
"Well, you see, Balto. . .Simply put, I am a PIRATE."
In the streets, traffic halted. People stopped and stared. Some at each other, some at the speakers placed in various places on buildings. This announcement bounced from wall to wall, building to building, street to street, echoing throughout the city with a resounding finality.
Balto-Boy simply gaped in pure confusion. Grim would have gotten some joy from this, if she wasn't already currently incredibly busy with making things up.
"Pirates can't be secretaries! Making a pirate into a secretary is an incredibly unorthodox decision!"
Balto sighed. "Oh for cryin' out loud. That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Just HOW high do you have to BE to even make shit up like that?" When he was done rolling his eyes, a very large book, no, a TOME slammed into his face. This thing was huge. As he pulled it off, Balto was honestly surprised that he hadn't just been struck by some sort of X-Box. This thing would take forever to read. He rubbed his face and read the cover; The Joys of Rules. He looked up at Grimscott.
The hatter was backing away now. "Check in there, you'll see what I mean! It's in there, mango. It's all there." She appeared to have materialized a suitcase and Groucho Marx glasses.
Before he could stop her, she was already out the window.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
TO BE CONTINUED. . .
