New Installment of OG fan fiction, Sept.8
Posted: Tue Aug 18, 2009 7:25 am
SEPTEMBER 8TH BITS AT THE END, AS OF SEPT 8TH
EDIT: New, Improved, and revised according to the most excellent advice of Kestril, Ragdollmaster and Nuky(see posts below). Also, I changed some of the fight choreography 'cause of an OCD problem I have. Let me know what you think.
building on a prologue I wrote in the spf forum, but this is more OG fan fiction than a game-plot outline, so here it lands.
The Cat Princess.
In her youth, she had been very vain. Self involved and stubborn, she had a very high opinion of herself, and was supported in this by most people she met, for she was very intelligent and very beautiful.
Her father was a Patriarch, a powerful and wealthy man. She struggled from the time she was small against his scornful attitude and callous rule. She hated the way he treated her mother, as though her mother were a barely tolerated servant, and she grew to despise her mother for letting him do it.
Her rebellion against her father drove her to the taverns to drink and into the arms of a succession of lovers. Some of them treated her badly, sometimes they'd even beat her. She never stayed long. Some were more kind, but after awhile she'd lose interest anyway and find herself back in the taverns.
When she first met Turner she was drunk.
She had never seen him in the pub before. He sat quietly at the end of the bar in the shadows with his back to the wall. He was an ordinary rabbit, light brown, not quite her father's age. His clothes were patched and thin from wear, but they looked clean. There wasn't anything remarkable about him, except maybe the way he watched the room. Something about his eyes just made her look at him for a moment before she turned her attention back to her friends.
The local rowdies were a gang of burly cats, dogs, rabbits and rats who worked at the docks. They were already half lit, shouting above the din of the terrible band. Some of the drunkest attempted to dance. They staggered across the floor into the drinkers at the bar, and suddenly there were curses, then shoving, and blows.
Soon everyone in the bar was fighting or drunkenly trying to stay out of the way. The band scattered from the low stage, and the room filled with the sound of grunting, shouting and breaking crockery. The cat princess was just alert enough to be afraid. She skittered from the crowd to the back wall, crouching down to make herself smaller.
The quiet rabbit looked at her, but didn't get up. He sat on the edge of his stool and watched the tide of struggling men and women with interest. A bottle flew out of the crowd and the rabbit reached out and pushed the princess a foot's width away from him, holding her shoulder as she staggered. The bottle exploded on the wall between their heads, covering them both with beer and bits of clay.
"All right?" He leaned toward her and shouted over the noise. "I'm Turner."
She stared blearily at him, and he glanced at her and raised a momentary smiling eyebrow before turning his attention back to the room.
Something in the sound of the fight had changed. Half the crowd that had been drunkenly brawling had managed to escape the bar into the street, and those that were left seemed to be fighting in earnest.
A large black dog shot out of the scuffle toward the wall where the princess was cowering. She shrieked and ducked as he staggered in, flailing his arms and taking giant overbalanced steps. Turner stood and stepped forward, guiding the big dog a little to the side as if he were steering a boat. The dog just managed to get his paws up in time to take the shock as he collided with the wall beside the crouching princess.
The big dog reeled back from the wall and looked at Turner as if expecting a further attack, but Turner merely nodded a friendly greeting and waited. The dog looked at him and the cat for a confused moment, then nodded his own shaggy head and charged back into the crowd.
Now the fight was less a free-for-all and more like a serious battle between two gangs. A cat and the one remaining rat went down, and then it was one last gray cat and the black dog against four. A big brown rabbit in a silk shirt caught the grey cat in the ribs with a knee, and the cat went to the floor clutching her sides and retching a fine spray of blood. Another big rabbit got a fistful of the black dog's fur and pulled him off balance. An orange cat swiped a viscious overhand paw that cut across the dog's left eye and tore a great flap out of his ear.
The big dog screamed in pain and thrashed wildly, digging his elbow into the ribs of the rabbit who held him and smashing a fist into the side of the orange cat's head. The cat fell to the floor like a sack, and a white dog with bloodstained fur stepped in and stomped his foot into the black dog's stomach. The black dog folded and covered up, trying to protect his head from the fists that rained from all sides. Blinded by the blood in his eyes, he could only get his back to the bar, and now the two big rabbits started in with their feet.
The cat princess stared, sober now as the morning, and screamed as the rabbit in the silk shirt pinned the dog to the bar and pulled a long, thin bladed knife from his belt.
Turner was already moving. He trapped the knife hand before it could draw back for the blow and lashed his left foot into the back of the rabbit's knee. The back of big rabbit's head banged into the floor as if his feet were a hinge. Turner ducked as the white dog threw an arcing left fist. He stepped forward, parried a jabbing right and punched the dog in the eye with the butt of the captured knife.
The white dog staggered back and the remaining rabbit stepped in and kicked hard. Turner twisted and the powerful foot grazed past his ribs. Before the big rabbit could pull his leg back, Turner caught him by the ankle. He stepped forward and hooked his own foot behind the bigger rabbit's as he punched upward, the knife handle flat across the heel of his palm. The hardwood grip cracked into the big rabbit's nose, sending him back and down where his own head bounced off the blood soaked wood floor.
Moments before the tavern had been a surging mob and an uproar of sound. Now it was nearly empty, and hushed except for the panting of the injured dogs.
The white dog, his face wet with blood and tears, hunched a few paces away near the door to the street. Hands up to protect himself, he flinched and tried to keep his good eye on the knife in the Turner's hand. The cat princess crouched in the corner, eyes wide with fear. The black dog sat on the floor against the bar, wheezing and holding the cut on his eye, small bubbles of blood foaming his nostrils with each breath.
Turner stood still, looking over the long knife at the white dog. One of the rabbits on the floor groaned, and he glanced around. The floor was littered with sprawled bodies, broken jars and chairs, the blood in pools and spatters soaked into the splintery boards of the floor.
He looked back up at the white dog and nodded toward the open door. The dog didn't need to be told. He took a last look at his friends and left, vanishing into the crowd that was starting to gather in the street. Most of the drunken brawlers had gone, not wanting to be around when the constables arrived. Those that remained were asking each other what happened and trying to get a look inside the door without getting too near.
Turner dropped the knife into the trash bin behind the bar and looked closely at each of the groaning fighters. They all seemed to be still breathing well enough. He checked for signs of head injury, pulling back the eyelids of the two big rabbits and the orange cat. They'd recover. The rat was sitting up. The grey cat lay on her side, holding her ribs and squinting at him in pain.
The cat princess watched him from where she knelt by the black dog.
The dog looked at Turner with his good eye.
"You better take off before the constables get here," he wheezed.
"Don't you kill these fools after I go," Turner said.
"I won't."
"Better get out of here yourself. Can you walk?"
"I can walk."
Turner looked at the cat princess. She was standing now, the knees of her dress soaked with blood.
"I have to go."
"Alright," she said. "I'm here sometimes."
He nodded and walked toward the back of the tavern. When he looked back, she was still looking at him, and she was still looking after him as the door closed and he was gone.
...
EDIT: New, Improved, and revised according to the most excellent advice of Kestril, Ragdollmaster and Nuky(see posts below). Also, I changed some of the fight choreography 'cause of an OCD problem I have. Let me know what you think.
building on a prologue I wrote in the spf forum, but this is more OG fan fiction than a game-plot outline, so here it lands.
The Cat Princess.
In her youth, she had been very vain. Self involved and stubborn, she had a very high opinion of herself, and was supported in this by most people she met, for she was very intelligent and very beautiful.
Her father was a Patriarch, a powerful and wealthy man. She struggled from the time she was small against his scornful attitude and callous rule. She hated the way he treated her mother, as though her mother were a barely tolerated servant, and she grew to despise her mother for letting him do it.
Her rebellion against her father drove her to the taverns to drink and into the arms of a succession of lovers. Some of them treated her badly, sometimes they'd even beat her. She never stayed long. Some were more kind, but after awhile she'd lose interest anyway and find herself back in the taverns.
When she first met Turner she was drunk.
She had never seen him in the pub before. He sat quietly at the end of the bar in the shadows with his back to the wall. He was an ordinary rabbit, light brown, not quite her father's age. His clothes were patched and thin from wear, but they looked clean. There wasn't anything remarkable about him, except maybe the way he watched the room. Something about his eyes just made her look at him for a moment before she turned her attention back to her friends.
The local rowdies were a gang of burly cats, dogs, rabbits and rats who worked at the docks. They were already half lit, shouting above the din of the terrible band. Some of the drunkest attempted to dance. They staggered across the floor into the drinkers at the bar, and suddenly there were curses, then shoving, and blows.
Soon everyone in the bar was fighting or drunkenly trying to stay out of the way. The band scattered from the low stage, and the room filled with the sound of grunting, shouting and breaking crockery. The cat princess was just alert enough to be afraid. She skittered from the crowd to the back wall, crouching down to make herself smaller.
The quiet rabbit looked at her, but didn't get up. He sat on the edge of his stool and watched the tide of struggling men and women with interest. A bottle flew out of the crowd and the rabbit reached out and pushed the princess a foot's width away from him, holding her shoulder as she staggered. The bottle exploded on the wall between their heads, covering them both with beer and bits of clay.
"All right?" He leaned toward her and shouted over the noise. "I'm Turner."
She stared blearily at him, and he glanced at her and raised a momentary smiling eyebrow before turning his attention back to the room.
Something in the sound of the fight had changed. Half the crowd that had been drunkenly brawling had managed to escape the bar into the street, and those that were left seemed to be fighting in earnest.
A large black dog shot out of the scuffle toward the wall where the princess was cowering. She shrieked and ducked as he staggered in, flailing his arms and taking giant overbalanced steps. Turner stood and stepped forward, guiding the big dog a little to the side as if he were steering a boat. The dog just managed to get his paws up in time to take the shock as he collided with the wall beside the crouching princess.
The big dog reeled back from the wall and looked at Turner as if expecting a further attack, but Turner merely nodded a friendly greeting and waited. The dog looked at him and the cat for a confused moment, then nodded his own shaggy head and charged back into the crowd.
Now the fight was less a free-for-all and more like a serious battle between two gangs. A cat and the one remaining rat went down, and then it was one last gray cat and the black dog against four. A big brown rabbit in a silk shirt caught the grey cat in the ribs with a knee, and the cat went to the floor clutching her sides and retching a fine spray of blood. Another big rabbit got a fistful of the black dog's fur and pulled him off balance. An orange cat swiped a viscious overhand paw that cut across the dog's left eye and tore a great flap out of his ear.
The big dog screamed in pain and thrashed wildly, digging his elbow into the ribs of the rabbit who held him and smashing a fist into the side of the orange cat's head. The cat fell to the floor like a sack, and a white dog with bloodstained fur stepped in and stomped his foot into the black dog's stomach. The black dog folded and covered up, trying to protect his head from the fists that rained from all sides. Blinded by the blood in his eyes, he could only get his back to the bar, and now the two big rabbits started in with their feet.
The cat princess stared, sober now as the morning, and screamed as the rabbit in the silk shirt pinned the dog to the bar and pulled a long, thin bladed knife from his belt.
Turner was already moving. He trapped the knife hand before it could draw back for the blow and lashed his left foot into the back of the rabbit's knee. The back of big rabbit's head banged into the floor as if his feet were a hinge. Turner ducked as the white dog threw an arcing left fist. He stepped forward, parried a jabbing right and punched the dog in the eye with the butt of the captured knife.
The white dog staggered back and the remaining rabbit stepped in and kicked hard. Turner twisted and the powerful foot grazed past his ribs. Before the big rabbit could pull his leg back, Turner caught him by the ankle. He stepped forward and hooked his own foot behind the bigger rabbit's as he punched upward, the knife handle flat across the heel of his palm. The hardwood grip cracked into the big rabbit's nose, sending him back and down where his own head bounced off the blood soaked wood floor.
Moments before the tavern had been a surging mob and an uproar of sound. Now it was nearly empty, and hushed except for the panting of the injured dogs.
The white dog, his face wet with blood and tears, hunched a few paces away near the door to the street. Hands up to protect himself, he flinched and tried to keep his good eye on the knife in the Turner's hand. The cat princess crouched in the corner, eyes wide with fear. The black dog sat on the floor against the bar, wheezing and holding the cut on his eye, small bubbles of blood foaming his nostrils with each breath.
Turner stood still, looking over the long knife at the white dog. One of the rabbits on the floor groaned, and he glanced around. The floor was littered with sprawled bodies, broken jars and chairs, the blood in pools and spatters soaked into the splintery boards of the floor.
He looked back up at the white dog and nodded toward the open door. The dog didn't need to be told. He took a last look at his friends and left, vanishing into the crowd that was starting to gather in the street. Most of the drunken brawlers had gone, not wanting to be around when the constables arrived. Those that remained were asking each other what happened and trying to get a look inside the door without getting too near.
Turner dropped the knife into the trash bin behind the bar and looked closely at each of the groaning fighters. They all seemed to be still breathing well enough. He checked for signs of head injury, pulling back the eyelids of the two big rabbits and the orange cat. They'd recover. The rat was sitting up. The grey cat lay on her side, holding her ribs and squinting at him in pain.
The cat princess watched him from where she knelt by the black dog.
The dog looked at Turner with his good eye.
"You better take off before the constables get here," he wheezed.
"Don't you kill these fools after I go," Turner said.
"I won't."
"Better get out of here yourself. Can you walk?"
"I can walk."
Turner looked at the cat princess. She was standing now, the knees of her dress soaked with blood.
"I have to go."
"Alright," she said. "I'm here sometimes."
He nodded and walked toward the back of the tavern. When he looked back, she was still looking at him, and she was still looking after him as the door closed and he was gone.
...