Chaotic Disintegrate

Where chaos stops and more chaos ensues. Where Filia plays the electric keyboard.
Where anything goes.

-//o_O\\7 *Home of the Awful, Mediocre and Pathetic* -//u_u\\7

Tuesday, February 17, 2004

- War of Words, Part VI -

"It is pointless to offer any resistance," intoned the left guard as, clutching his spear, he used it to push himself into a standing position, "We have you under arrest. There is no escape from the arms of the law."
"Keep still, don't struggle, no false moves," demanded the right guard as he recovered his position with the aid of the shaft of his halberd, "You are advised to remain silent. Anything you say may be used against you."
"Right, like I can even move." I huffed, still aching from the weight of having a heavy weapon collapse upon me. In my rather severely hammered state, the only muscles I could really utilise were those around my mouth. "In the first place, you should have told me you didn't need to kill me ... then I would have happily surrendered."
"Oh, but we will have to kill you," replied the left guard, as he prodded my boot with the toe of his own, "It is only a matter of when and where. But you still need to die, by the order of the law."
"The people enjoy public executions," remarked the right guard, as he glanced into my eyes with his own, "But in the event of any resistance the sentence must be carried out immediately."
"Hey, look, are you all obsessed about killing and traitors and stuff?" I complained, shooting my mouth off with the deftness of one with nothing to lose, "Doesn't it strike you as somewhat odd that you condemn a poor lost little girl as a traitor worthy only of the chopping block?" Well, I guess I did have something to lose ... my head, and anything I could possibly do to avert such a disastrous fate would be very helpful indeed.
"Treachery comes in all forms and shapes," remarked the right guard, kneeling down again to stare ever deeper into my eyes, "To award mercy to any one traitor for any reason is defeating the purpose of our steadfastness!" Er, yeah, I kind of see the point, but still ...
"In truth, it was to be through poisoning," considered the left guard, as he bent down to ponder to himself with my boot as inspiration, "But now that you suggest it, perhaps dismemberment and meat distribution might be an option." Uh, well, I hope he was joking on that one ...
"I mean, well, seriously!" I stammered as I tried very hard to explain my case, hindered by the inability to move my limbs in an attempt to express myself, "Now that we're all calm and quiet, why don't you ask me some questions ... test me, challenge me, anything, and I'll prove to you that I'm not plotting anything of the sort, all right? You can't consider people guilty until proven innocent, you know." Or perhaps I could work a little on the phrasing there, since the more I talked the more it seemed that I was trying to wrangle my way out of certain death. Which was true, to quite a large extent.
"That sounds simple enough," commented the left guard as I breathed a cold sigh of relief, "What questions should we ask her?"
"Let me pose the first question," prepared the right guard as a wad of saliva rose in my throat, "What is your name?"
"Oh, that's easy," I gasped, as I weakly raised an index finger of glee, "I'm Charlotte Tan." And for the record, my purpose is to find my way home, and my favourite colour is red.
"Ha! I've caught you out!" laughed the right guard as a jolt of alarm ran up my spine, "The traitor has confessed her crime! The verdict is clear, and the sentence must be passed!"
"W ... what crime?" I stammered, thinking at the back at my head that perhaps I had been dealing with a couple of lunatics all this while, "I just said my name! Is there something wrong with that?"
"That is exactly it!" roared the left guard as beads of my cold sweat broke out like a rash, "The people of Va World would never carry such a name! Beyond a doubt, you are one of the Consonance!"
"One of the Consonance?" I repeated, on hindsight thinking what a foolish mistake it was to travel with that popmpous buffoon from the beginning, "I already told you, I'm not one of them! I'm just a girl!"
"Did you just say something?" hissed a voice from somewhere in the crowd, one which sounded strangely familiar ... oh, that nincompoop. My ears pricked up to his distinctly accented voice, one which the guards had difficulty in understanding but not discerning.
"Did you just hear something?" questioned the left guard, as he glanced from side to side, "It was a strange voice, belonging to a strange man. Don't you think ..."
"I heard it, indeed!" confirmed the right guard as his gaze shifted from left to right, "It sounds like the other one of Consonance, the other one of the traitors! But, what should we ..."
And one more thing which was really bugging me, apart from the fact that my supposed protector had just gone and scarpered into the crowd leaving me lying on the gravel in the middle of the village for all the townsfolk to see, it was the fact that these two guards ...
"Look, are the two of you brothers or twins or something?" I cried, irked halfway to insanity by their ceaseless chattering, "Why must the two of you keep speaking in tandem? Don't you have any thoughts of your own? Did you know that you're both simply frightening to listen to? Huh?" At this comment, however, they became visibly annoyed ... or what little could be seen of their faces, anyway.
"Speaking together is a great sign of partnership," defended the left guard as he held a protective fist to the air, "It is precisely because we share no blood that we should speak together!"
"Speaking together builds camaraderie," insisted the right guard, with an irritated wave of the halberd, "Our speech reflects our equal standings, merit, and authority."
"I salute you, old partner!" exclaimed the left guard as he raised a hand to his fellow.
"Well said, my comrade!" laughed the right guard as he returned the cheery greeting.
"Yay. Joy ..." I groaned as the two put their palms together then laughed out loud like, well, old friends, I guess. It seems that I really was dealing with a bunch of twits here, and that Pwyns Xjrmynq had yet to return even though I could hear him, sneaking about among the village crowd. "I hate my life ..."
"But be on your guard, my good associate!" cautioned the right guard as he withdrew his hand, "Let's not chatter any more, I fear this may simply be a ploy by the traitor to distract us from our mission."
"You're right, my faithful colleague," acknowledged the left guard as he clasped his spear, "Judging from the deceitful nature of this villain, it is likely that she has already planned a surprise attack."
"A surprise attack? What in goodness' gracious' name are you talking about? I can't even move, let alone do anything like that!" I cried, although I did realise (a little too late) that having the guards talking instead of watching me might offer an opportunity of escape, "I'll do anything you want, to prove that I'm not a traitor or whatever, okay ...?"
However, my plea was promptly cut short by the sound of a haughty, conceited, and ultimately ridiculous proclamation emanating from somewhere to my side, where the fountain stood. I inclined my head.
"Well said, my trusty Xkwyr!" announced the royal twit as he stood on the concrete rim of the fountain, his trusty dagger at his belt, "You are indeed most intelligent for having made provisions to allow me to launch a surprise attack upon these disbelieving infidels! Fall and die, unworthy scoundrels, as my blade of light shall slice your dark hearts and carve out peace, justice and honour, in the great name of Consonance!" Needless to say, however, his speech drew not applause but the quick glares of the guards who were watching over me. Stupid man, if only he had done that a few minutes later, when I had recovered the use of my limbs, I could have escaped while he was distracting them and left him, instead of me, to a nasty and grisly fate he fully deserved.
"Isn't that the man you were supposed to be pursuing?" questioned the left guard as he got to his feet, raising his spear to thrust, "How foolish of us to let him escape earlier, and how the more fool he is for returning."
"That idiot dares to return to look for death?" hissed the right guard as he recovered his position, hoisting his halberd for attack, "Let us apprehend this foe together, and then we can execute both enemies, together."
"Yes, I understand how perplexed your feeble minds are at having fallen into my most deadly trap," taunted the hopelessly inept Pwyns as the guards advanced on him, "But there is no need to babble, because I do not understand a words you might be uttering. Instead, bare your chests in reception of my mighty dagger of ..." He never got to finish his sentence, due to the presence of a razor-sharp spear head being thrust his way at lightning speed. Ooh ... I can't watch.
"Grr ... missed! This villain flees as fast as the first!" cursed the left guard as he swung around.
"The pest! We shall persevere, in the name of duty!" roared the right guard as he whirled about.
Somehow, Pwyns Xjrmynq had been able to leap right over the spearman without getting anywhere near impaled in the slightest, and looked like he was prepared to do more of the same. Hmm ... while he is undeniably the most incompetent moron I have ever met, I must say that he is rather agile indeed. Now, if only I was the same, so that I would be able to dart away and flee for my life given this excellent opportunity. What he did at this time, however, was a move that utterly baffled all logic and sense.
"Die!" he yelled again, as this time he did not simply stand there and taunt his enemies, but instead charged headlong into their midst while unarmoured and undefended. Whether that was bravery, foolhardiness or plain stupidity eluded me, and while the guards prepared to receive his 'assault', the bet was not on whether he would succeed or fail, but whether he would get pierced through the heart or sliced in half. Anyone?
The dashing (in the sense ' fast', of course) Pwyns Xjrmynq was quickly within weapons' length of the polearm-wielding guards, and needless to say, the sharpened spear tip surged forward as the axe head descended to utterly annihilate the unlucky man. But was it his speed or his luck that aided him? With the deftness of one who has planned the enemies' every move, he ducked as he darted forward to avoid the spear thrust, while shimmying sideways to ignore the axe head, and before the guards could retract their weapons they had become caught up in each other, and the assassin was within arms length to deliver the finishing blow.
"Oh no!" exclaimed the right guard, who noticed Pwyns Xjrmynq headed for his partner, but could not protect him.
"Argh!" cried the left guard, who spotted Pwyns Xjrmynq aiming for his heart a little too late, and could not evade the blow.
"This ... is ... for ... Charlotte!" he screamed, in a voice so forced it twisted into a high pitch, as he raised the dagger and let loose upon the spearman, aiming it with the precision of mere seconds, and thrust it straight for the left side of the guard's chest with the force only a skinny yet springy young man could muster. Oh ... I still can't watch ...

There only came the sound of metal scraping over metal, before that of a small metallic object clanking to the gravel floor. And when I dared to open my eyes, all I saw was the left guard having seized Pwyns Xjrmynq by the scruff of his neck with his left hand, his right hand still clutching his trusty spear, while the right guard stood a little beside his partner, holding his halberd and looking alternately mighty relieved and mighty pleased. The dagger that my former associate had claimed to rely upon so much, however, was lying on the floor, glinting in the morning sun, ultimately impotent.
"Grr ... unhand me, you scoundrel! You monster! You contemptible rat!" growled Pwyns Xjrmynq as he wrangled in the grasp of the left guard, unable to so much as touch the guard all decked out in a full set of armour, while with the slightest remotely threatening move the guard could simply tighten his grip around his neck, strangling him. You know, my good friend Pwyns Xjrmynq, medieval soldiers wore armour for a reason ... so that they wouldn't be killed easily by knife-wielding brigands utilising cheap surprise attacks.
"Now that we've got both of the villains," murmured the right guard, "What should we do with them? Perhaps we should execute them immediately." Hoisting his halberd, seeing as to how his partner had no problems with subduing Pwyns Xjrmynq, he strode over to where I was lying.
"Perhaps that could come in later," considered the left guard, "Who are these people, anyway? They do not seem to provide much opposition ..." Raising his spear, his iron grasp still tightened around the neck of Pwynx Xjrmynq, he dragged the noble over to his compatriot.
"Release me, you confounded imbecile!" he roared, with all the anger and fury of a lion but with the potency of an infant, as he swung about in his tantrum, "I'll have you know that I am Pwyns Xjrmynq, scion of the most noble and honourable royal family of Consonance, and heir to the nation's throne! I am Pwyns Xjrmynq, the most fearsome assassin ever trained by the court university of my homeland! I am ..."
"Oh, shut up!" I yelled, my frustration having already reached boiling point over my meaningless exertions earlier, the whining and blustering of a spoilt and retarded loafer was more than enough to push it over, "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"
"Wha ...?" At once, the heads of the three men turned to face me as I lay on the floor. Then, upon realising that somehow all three of them had been summoned by the same command, the two guards' heads naturally inclined to glance at the royal buffoon, himself being too caught up in his theatrics to even notice his two foes had turned to stare at him.
"H ... how? What is this language? How can this be possible?" pondered the left guard, still holding the flailing prisoner by his neck, "Evidently this is no ordinary girl. Perhaps she does merit a few more questions before her death."
"Who was she yelling at after all?" considered the right guard, still angling his deadly halberd for attack, "Not that it matters, but before we execute them we should bring this to the attention of the mayor, right away."
"..." I groaned, lying like a slab of roadkill in the middle of the village crossroads, roasting in the heat of the ascending sun, my accompaniment being the shouts and wails of a hopeless and helpless royal pain.

- Your adventure ends here. Now, who's 'Here', I wonder? -

Ahh ... I finally found out how to access the information about offers on the UCAS website, so I can check them. Apart from Cambridge (ugh ... please don't remind me ... *whimper*) it appears that Warwick has also rejected me, but for the Creative Writing application. Apparently, they aren't interested in having a student apply for two courses at the same university, and make only one offer. Interestingly enough, despite the 'deadline' for sample submission to East Anglia (which happened to fall right in the middle of A levels) having been gone for months, they still haven't rejected me outright yet. Better they do so quickly, and save themselves any paperwork. The offers by York and Durham are there, and Warwick is still considering for History. So what this means is, if I do badly for A levels (touch wood!) I'll probably be studying at York if I don't retake my A levels, and if I do well enough ... maybe I might try again. Who knows?

posted by Charlotte | 3:50 pm

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Disclaimer : The Slayers and Filia Ul Copt and all images thereof are the property of Hajime Kanzaka and Rui Araizumi. I don't own any of them, although if I had a choice I would want Filia ...
~//n_n\\7

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