5100 words
Chloe knocked on the door to her cousin’s room. The only response was a garbled “Come in,” or at least something that sounded like it. Chloe, dressed in her costume from the day before, sans the odious braids, entered to find Lois’s head sticking out off the corner of the bed, the rest of her body covered by the thick comforter. The bed itself emitted a humming noise and appeared to be vibrating very quickly.
“Uh, Lois, you okay?”
Lois turned her head up and gave her cousin a joyful smile, “Cuz, I am more than okay. I am in Heaven.” She emitted a breathy sigh, briefly turning transparent. “I don’t care how much this thing costs, I am getting one, because after one of these babies, you will never need a man again. Wanna try it out?” Lois reappeared.
Terror was the only word that could describe the look on Chloe’s face. “No, Lois, that’s wrong on like fourteen levels. I’m already picking you up on the radar.”
Lois laughed and turned on her side to turn off the bed. Unable to reach, she ended up rolling onto her back. “Whoa!” she exclaimed, retracting her arm, looking a tad sick by the new sensation. Moments later, though, the smile and invisibility returned. With a chuckle, she commented to her cousin, “Didn’t think I was that type of girl.”
Shaking her head, Chloe pleaded, “Tell me you’re not naked.” She already knew the answer.
“There was nothing to wear. My wardrobe was empty.” Lois’s reply was almost innocent, until she added, “Plus, it’s a private room, who’s gonna care?”
Rolling her eyes, Chloe tapped on the front of the wardrobe like Proditor had done, opened the right door, and threw Lois a bathrobe.
Lois’s disembodied voice came from the bed, “Party pooper. So, how were the other rooms?” The sheets on the bed flattened down and the bathrobe floated in the air before being wrapped around Lois’s invisible body.
“Well, Pete’s was kinda minimalist. Had a bunch of weapons, so he seemed pretty intrigued. Mine and
Tying the bathrobe, Lois reappeared quickly. “Yours and
Chloe returned to the door and closed it all the way, a tad amused that Lois had not insisted on it long before. She whispered, “Of course. We’re supposed to be married, remember?”
“And… in the same bed?” Lois’s voice was getting higher by the minute. Her body, too, as she inadvertently rose two feet off the ground.
“We built a wall of pillows between us!”
Testily, Lois questioned, “And was that wall there this morning?”
“I’m beginning to think you’re psychic now. No,” she admitted, “turns out
Lois’s voice returned to normal as she asked with simple curiosity, “He keep you up?” She then had a dirty thought which she decided to keep to herself. Chloe scowled at her, and Lois realized that she hadn’t kept it to herself.
“No,” Chloe replied, answering her question, “our bed was made with some kind of heavy liquid that displaces inertia.” She smiled lithely, “In fact, funny story: this morning
Sarcastically, Lois replied, “Hilarious story. Wish I had a video of it. Could make a lot of money off it on the Internet.”
“Lois!”
“What? It’s not like I can keep these thoughts to myself, seeing that my mind’s not private.”
Chloe softened her voice, “Lois, I can’t read your thoughts. But I pick up any emotions you have like a satellite dish. I know you pretty well. It’s not that hard to infer what you’re thinking.”
Fading a bit, Lois said, “Sorry, Chlo.” After a short, comfortable silence, Lois asked, “There’s no way you slept au naturale. What’d you wear?”
Chloe was silent.
* * *
“You could bounce a sandbag off of it!” Pete exclaimed with exasperation. He, Chloe, Clark, and Lois were being led around by Beipanzhe to some of the multipurpose rooms.
“Actually, best sleep I’ve gotten in while. Maybe I’ll invest in a firmer mattress after all. How’d you sleep?”
“Well, when you have a big nice bed all to yourself, how can you not?” A look of panic appeared on his three friends’ faces. Beipanzhe looked around, perplexed. Pete immediately added, with a convincing fake laugh, “Heh, newlyweds. Seems like just yesterday my man
Beipanzhe spoke without turning around, “The young lady we sent to your room was very disappointed.”
Three heads turned quickly and almost in unison toward Pete. Pete replied to Beipanzhe alone, “It was very kind of you, but I actually have someone back home.”
Lois turned her head and mumbled under her voice, “How come I didn’t get that treatment?” When she looked ahead, she noted Chloe and Clark both looking at her. She chided herself for forgetting about Chloe’s empathy and
“Whoa.” Pete’s comment was breathy and awed. He was looking through a window which showed a large, two-story fighting arena. Circular, bleach-white walls under harsh white lights were covered in weapons of every sort.
Beipanzhe nodded. “We figured you’d be interested in the battling arenas, Peetros. That is why we had a Pylean Groosalugg shipped in for you to spar with.”
Pete visibly paled as they made their way to the battling arena. He nervously rubbed the edges of a dagger he was holding, which caused him no harm due to the impenetrable gloves he was wearing. A large metal box was brought into the room, holding what the Kenaki had called the “Groosalugg,” which given Pete’s luck, would be more terrible than it sounded. He held his breath as the six-foot-cubed box was opened and out stepped the creature.
* * *
Lex read through some manuscripts in what Proditor called the Archives Room. On one side of the page were the Kawatche cave petroglyphs; on the other, English.
“And you’re sure of these translations?” His fingers lightly brushed the page reverently.
“Well, these glyphs are very reminiscent of the Kryptonian language. We did have some records for comparison, but they were outdated. And you can imagine, over time the separation would cause the dialect to evolve into variants. However, we did attempt to translate them, using the cave wall paintings as a guide and a little of what you Terrans call ‘elbow grease,’ I believe. We are intellectual race, Your Greatness; what you see there is the most logical interpretation.”
“No, I agree. I subscribe to that type of intellectualism myself.” Lex looked up from the parchment to examine the room. “This is a large room.”
“Not all of it pertains to the Champions of Kal-El. But, if you’re interested in the Kryptonian race, this book might interest you. We translated it ourselves into your tongue.”
Lex smiled as he scanned the digital page. “Well, this type of English went out of fashion about two hundred years ago, but I’ve done enough document study that I think I’ll be okay.” His face dropped after about thirty seconds of reading.
* * *
The Groosalugg looked human. His eyes were an eerie solid black, but besides that, he looked like a very normal—and attractive—twenty-something human man. His height was about six foot with a soldier’s physique. His hair was raven black and long to his shoulders. He wore very simple animal skin boots, a loincloth, and a dull breastplate. Chloe moved on the other side of
“Well, Peetros,” Beipanzhe stated, “are you prepared to fight the Groosalugg? We think he might just be a challenge for you. If you have not heard about him, let me tell you a little about where he comes from. His planet is full of murderous beasts that kill humans for sport. Because of his looks, he has been ostrasized by his people. In an effort to kill himself, he entered in various tournaments of death. But he was unsuccessful; he bested every creature that dared challenge the Cursed One. He now comes to challenge you.” The Groosalugg looked stoic throughout the ordeal.
Pete grabbed a large broadsword from the wall and promptly dropped it because of its weight. He then reached for a gold-hilted saber and a small, light dagger. “Ready.” As she studied Pete, Chloe found herself reminded of a scene from a movie she had seen once. In it, the main character was approaching a guillotine.
Without a word, the Groosalugg grabbed a heavy battleaxe with one hand and swung it skillfully. Pete quickly returned the attack, charging and swinging the saber. The Groosalugg was fast and effortlessly dodged Pete’s attack, hitting him with the butt of the axe as he passed. Pete spun around quickly, swinging the blade, which was easily deflected by the Groosalugg, but Pete was quick, too, stabbing with the dagger. The Groosalugg was forced to turn quickly so the blade would be deflected by his breastplate. In this, he lost sure footing, and a feigned swing by Pete caused him to fall on his back. Pete swung the saber hard, but the Groosalugg was ready, deflecting it with his axe, causing the saber to go flying. Pete made the mistake of watching the blade fly, and the Groosalugg launched himself from the ground onto his feet with superhuman agility and swung his axe at Pete. Pete was able to use the dagger to deflect the axe from hitting his shoulder, but the weak weapon would not suffice for long, so mid-spin Pete caught the saber seconds from hitting the ground, and without missing a beat swung at the neck of the Groosalugg’s axe. The Groosalugg, unprepared for the attack, watched as his arm forced back. Pete swung again, but his opponent grabbed his wrist with his strong arm. The Groosalugg then kicked Pete at his center of mass, sending him backwards into the wall. Pete didn’t have time to recover as the Groosalugg pinned him to the wall. Pete’s skill was no match for the Groosalugg’s strength.
“It’s okay, Smallville, I think I may go a round with the rugged beast.” She grabbed a spear from the wall and walked towards the struggling men with intention. Chloe didn’t say a word as she noted that it was a different type of feistiness that drew Lois into the skirmish.
Beipanzhe looked on in awe, and commented to Clark and Chloe, “Not only is she extremely wise, but also a warrior! What an incredible choice for Myora’s successor! Kal-El must have great respect for this Lowzlane.”
Chloe tried to suppress the powerful grin that threatened to conquer her face. Grabbing
Lois’s first attack was a sharp poke to the base of the Groosalugg’s spine with the butt of the spear. Forced to release one hand, the Groosalugg swung his fist towards Lois, whose natural reflexes kept her away from the path. At Pete’s free arm grabbed a small battleaxe from the wall, the Groosalugg defended himself by launching Pete into the air, where he was quickly caught and set back down by the airborne Lois, who wasted no time kicking the Groosalugg square in the chest, making him mimic Pete’s earlier actions. Like a cat, the Groosalugg lunged forward, but Lois faded from sight as she ascended into the air. The Groosalugg searched around, but was thrown back by an invisible force. Pete charged him, but he took a large sword and swung it in a high arc to hinder Pete’s progress, closing his eyes while he did. Suddenly he leapt backwards onto the wall and propelled himself into the air, grabbing with intention, and pulling a reappearing Lois to the ground by her ankle, just in time to defend himself from Pete’s next attack with Lois’s spear.
Clark and Chloe, who had been watching in awe, began to examine the room after realizing the battle would go on for a very long time.
“Your friend, Lek-Sluthore, wished to exercise his skills this morning. The Groosalugg had not yet arrived, so we set him loose with several wild beasts from the nearby quadrant. He was unstoppable. Much like Sageeth, he never seemed to tire or grow weary. I have never seen such slaying!”
Clark and Chloe responded by swallowing uncomfortably in unison and plastering on smiles. But Pete’s pained gasps woke them from their thoughts. In his hand, the Groosalugg held the large sword that Pete had earlier attempted to raise. It was covered in blood and there was a large gash down Pete’s side where the sword had gotten under an untucked section of Pete’s invulnerable tunic. Pete himself sat against the wall, holding his bloody wound, and gasping for air.
* * *
Try as she might, Lana couldn’t move or speak, her jaw slack. The room was enormous: twenty feet tall, thirty feet wide, and must have been at least three hundred feet long. And it was filled top to bottom with clothes: two racks stacked on top of each other, along the wall and down two aisles. Thousands of dresses of every kind, some bizarre and no doubt extraterrestrial, and some which were not meant for a creature resembling Lana is the slightest, all were all hanging on the racks on invisible hangers.
The Kenaki women looked much like the men, but had the same physical characteristics that separated the human genders. They were not as tall as Proditor or Beipanzhe, but still towered above the petite Lana, and they had rounded hips and softer faces.
“Milady.” The voice awakened Lana from her reverie. Inadu, a handmaiden that had been trailing Lana since this morning, smiled. “Do you see anything you like?”
Nearly speechless, she replied, “I’m hard-pressed to find something I don’t. My lord, this place is amazing.” Taking a few steps towards the middle rack, she reached in and pulled out a large slinky gown. Lana surveyed the dressed, noticing it was for a seven-foot creature with no arms.
“Milady Lanalang, if you see a style you like but isn’t made for your species, we would be happy to adapt it. Just give us some lead time before the coronation.”
“Thank you,” Lana said vacantly as she surveyed the dress. “Why do you call me ‘milady’?”
Inadu smiled warmly, “Rayen was a woman of royalty. As Kal-El deemed you worthy of her title, it is your privilege to be given the same respect as she. Perhaps I could tell you of Rayen’s history? It’s come to my attention that your party was sent here with some unnecessary haste, and haven’t been fully introduced to your roles.”
“Yes, maybe a little later…” Lana mumbled, as she examined a silky black and white skirt. It was made for a taller creature, a Kenaki woman perhaps. “I like this. Would it be possible for this skirt to be… adapted for me for tonight?”
“Of course. It is a magnificent choice and most appropriate might I add.” The handmaiden of sorts handed it to one of the squat worker beings, who took it out of the room. “You seem to have a high appreciation for fashion, Madame?”
“It’s kind of a guilty pleasure, I guess. You wanted to tell me a story?”
“Yes…”
* * *
The profusely bleeding Pete rested in Chloe’s arms. The hand of an enraged
Chloe’s pleading face invaded
Chloe appeared to have a headache. “Look…” she spoke softly but swiftly, motioning towards the other side of the room. The grimacing Pete, bare-chested, was lying on the floor as Beipanzhe appeared to be drying the blood off Pete, revealing a large piece of clear tape laid across Pete’s wound. The panting
Chloe, feeling
“Groosalugg,” he began, not knowing any other way to address him, “I’d like to apologize. Do you understand English?”
The Groosalugg looked up and smiled. Similar to the Kenaki, his unusual intonation and rhythm, gave his voice a regal tone. “My people had an inefficient grunting language before we started to collect cows. We have somewhat adapted to their more advance language, yes.”
Confused about the cow comment,
“My people are a combative type, quick to draw their swords. We measure our heroes by the number of creatures they slay.”
“Is it your desire that I do so as well?”
“I wish you would. What do your friends call you?”
The Groosalugg replied quickly, “I have none. I am an outcast to my people. Any other beings I meet I am facing in combat. Perhaps these hypothetical friends, they would call me ‘Groo.’”
“You are a great man, Clark. If the legends about Naman are true, you are indeed worthy of his epithet.” Having a mild distaste for praise,
Lois grabbed her cousin’s shoulder, “You know, girl, ever since he got zapped by the voice in the cave, he’s been pulling some pretty incredible feats of power. That wasn’t too smart of you getting in front of him while he was Hulking out.”
“
“We’re all strangers in a strange land here. I wouldn’t be surprised to find all of our left brains running on high.”
But the conversation was brief, as Lois made her way over to Groo. Cornering him against the wall, she flatly asked, “Did you know that they had that magical medical tape?”
“Of course, milady. An advanced society like those on Dagula-Inagehi would have only the best medical supplies. This is a practice arena for people who don’t want to die or see death. You do not bring in the Groosalugg to kill someone unless there is a paying audience. And with a brave warrior as he who bears the name of the Most Loyal Dayak, I would never…”
Lois smiled sweetly and held up her hand to silence him. “Ready to go for another nine rounds?”
“If you think you can take me for that long, Lowzlane.”
“Famous last words, handsome.” And then she faded from sight.
* * *
Chloe stood in her Kawatche dress in what appeared to be a lavish dressing room. Several Kenaki servants, as well as a few of the short worker creatures, were bustling around Chloe, holding strange fabrics and other indescribable artifacts. One such servant, who seemed female, approached Chloe from behind. “Your Majesty, I am Alitama. We have your gown prepared for this evening’s coronation.”
“Thank you,” Chloe responded, just to say something. She waned to tell the handmaiden she could leave it on the bed so that she could try it on when the long arms of Alitama reached around and began to grab at unseen fasteners, which to her shock, caused her dress to fall off. Before she had time to react, or blush even, a blue formless sheet was placed over her head. The fabric was a bright sky blue, lighter and thinner than silk, almost like a cloth tissue paper. As her head slid through a hole in the center of the sheet, Chloe watched as the previously rectangular sheet, as it glided across her skin, started to form a dress. While it didn’t cling to her body, it floated closely above her skin like an aura, anticipating each curve. While the material, much like her night clothes, was opaque, it tended to show her silhouette in even the lowest light. It was ill-fitting, though, and several handmaidens crowded around Chloe to pinch and pull at the elastic fabric, making it infinitely more comfortable.
She was given two slipper-like shoes, the same color as her dress. As Chloe stood on them, she felt them bend to the shape of her foot, and then push up on her foot until they raised her heels and the arches of her feet just enough so that she couldn’t help but have perfect posture. As she took a few small steps, feeling constricted by the close-fitting garment, it seemed that the fabric of the skirt stretched out to accommodate her movement. After a few steps, the sensation disappeared as the skirt had been extended to the necessary fullness.
The handmaiden spoke, “I hope you like it.”
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” was all Chloe could say, amazed that the previously unadorned garment now had intricate patterns woven through it. In addition, the edges of the fabric had developed decorative fringes. The neckline was pointed and was open to the base of her sternum, far too low for Chloe’s taste, so she pinched the fabric five inches down from her collarbone. The fabric bonded to itself, making the dress more modest.
“Sorry we don’t have your crown for you, Your Majesty. But you know men. They have to have a show. You will get it tonight at the ceremony.”
“Yes, thank you. And, if I may ask, Alitama, why you assume I’m… well, a Queen?”
“Chieftess? Don’t worry, Your Majesty, we have studied the Kawatche culture. You may use your native vocabulary.” The handmaiden handed Chloe some oddly shaped metal ornaments, which she looked at curiously before another helper took them from her. One attached a belt, leaving it loose so that is would slide down to her hips, and then tightened it, causing her back to arch straight and pushing lightly on her diaphragm.
“I’m just getting used to it myself. Why, then, do you assume I’m Chieftess?”
“‘Loral’ refers to only two things, Your Majesty. It comes from the Kawatche word for… on your planet, the creature is called a ‘lion.’ It is the animal of courage and fierceness. Naman gave that title to his mate, because though she was beautiful, she was also one of the fiercest lady warriors in the tribe. Before Naman, it was a title given only to males, for the warrior in the tribe that defended the chief with his life. Naman chose Dayak to take that positions. When a Kawatche woman bears the epithet ‘Loral,’ she can be only the wife of Naman. It also refers to the champion who takes on the name of Naman’s mate as a sign to the actual Loral that her husband would be returned. Being of stout heart, you obviously forwent that right. We would have known that you were not the true champions if you were not male and were not the mate of Loral.” Alitama seemed very proud of her knowledge. Chloe sensed no suspicion, but truthfully the Kenaki seemed a lot harder to read than her human companions.
Chloe swallowed hard. “Wow, you know the stories better than some of the… younglings.” She felt not unlike she had forgotten to do the required reading in one of her classes.
Another handmaiden placed a silver choker necklace on Chloe, which was made of tiny, thread-thin links. A red pendant hung off it, and as the jewel rested on her breastbone, it began to glow, brightening and fading. Chloe soon realized that it was in tempo with her heartbeat. Using a scathe-like instrument, a handmaiden trimmed her hair to collarbone length and sprayed it with some sort of chemical. Chloe figured it was a type of hair spray, but as she moved her head, her hair seemed to move unhindered, though she realized its function when a lock of hair that she pushed out of her eye stubbornly returned to place. Luckily, one of the servants started placing what seemed to be clear plastic hair pins in her hair, which immediately fell out, but left the locks of hair in place.
One of the handmaidens—Chloe was having trouble keeping track of the host of servants in her room who seemed to resembled each other more than humans did—handed Chloe a formed silver wire. At first, Chloe was unsure what to do with the artifact, but the handmaiden grasped Chloe’s right hand and placed the circular bends of the wire through Chloe’s first two fingers. At first, the long ends of the wire lay awkwardly against either side of her forearm, but they then began to curl from what seemed to be the heat of her skin. The much longer inside end started to snake around her wrist and forearm while the outside end rolled up into a spiral, coming to rest against the back of her palm. After watching the magical transformation, Chloe wiggled her fingers and found that the bracelet did not hinder the motion of her hand at all. The familiar turquoise bracelet is replaced on her other wrist with some degree of formality.
Alitama smiled at her, saying, “I hope you are prepared for tonight. It promises to be quite an event!”
~
A/N: Wow, I really hate to leave it there, especially given how I’ve slowed down the pace. This probably means you’ll be waiting a long time for me to conclude this. It might be agonizing. I sincerely apologize and no, that is not an evil smirk on my face.
^_^ - Lies. And, Creedog, do you really have to make Chloe so hot in these stories? I mean, really? I’m about to develop heat vision!
©2006 Godeerc VanDrey Enterprises, Inc. Created Friday, July 21, 2006. Finished Wednesday, August 9, 2006. Updated Saturday, September 2, 2006.
No comments:
Post a Comment