Bothersome Journeys

[NebulaQueen]

Just a fic about my character Alonso going to run some errands...and it turning out horribly, horribly wrong.

Thanks to Pervy for playing Mr. Beta Reader, and thanks to Shini, End, and Lys for help and support. ^^ Thanks guys.

Also: spot the cameo!

Bothersome Journeys

~Or, A Very, Very Bad Day~

When a nation is at war, there is a certain loyalty that is necessary for its soldiers to possess if they are to be victorious. This bravery combined with a sense of duty spurs soldiers on, to fight for the motherland and to bring glory and honor to their home and to themselves. As a result, many tales are spun, of glory and honor, of loss and defeat, and of valiant victory and those that are left in the dust.

This, however, is not one of these stories.

Although…this is a story of a soldier, nonetheless. Enter one Alonso Zeffirelli, a Sergeant for the infamous Black Soul Knights. In the past, they have been known best for being Vaniyanka’s most valued soldiers, striking fear into the hearts of those who dare to go against the general. Alonso is no exception to this rule…except for today. Unless, of course, one’s definition of striking fear in the hearts of men includes going off to the market and getting eggs for ones parents.

Yes, even minions of evil have days off, just like regular folk. And sometimes, they have to spend these days off doing stuff they really don’t want to do.

Either way, the young man makes his way down the cold streets of Blizzardia, his hands full of groceries, and his heads full of thoughts along the lines of “rather be” and “somewhere else”. This arrangement was not to last for long, however, as something came up and directed his attention to something more important. To be more specific, this something involved the graceful art of nearly breaking ones neck over slipping over a bit of rough ice on the streets. His reflexes soon hit into high gear, combining military prowess with the instincts of someone raised in the cold to prevent him from the disgraceful and ignoble act known as “falling on one’s ass”. Soon, he regained his balance and footing, and was able to deftly avoid the ice.

It was a shame that he didn’t notice the cantaloupe, though.

It was a great shame that this resulted in him sliding a ways down the already icy streets.

And it was an even greater shame that this eventually resulted in unconsciousness.

---

Alonso finally came to from this unintentional icecapade, with his face firmly planted in the Barian snow. As he was about to get up and find a way to get rid of the Headache from Hell (patent pending), he felt a hand grasp his shoulder.

”Um…need a little help?” followed a feminine voice. It sounded rather young, and it was tinged with a slight Baronian accent.

“Er, sure,” replied Alonso, still feeling rather dazed from the experience. Grabbing hold of one of his arms, the mystery girl supported him, while he got off of the ground. Turning towards her, he finally got a good look at her. She was a short girl-looking no older than sixteen-dressed in a set of sturdy, practical looking gray robes. She also had a keen, hawk like expression in her eyes, which seemed to clash with what would be an otherwise delicate looking heart shaped face. Her entire demeanor and appearance, from her neat wavy hair to her stiff and most serious posture, gave her the aura of a librarian in training. Any minute now Alonso expected her to snap at the crowd, telling them to keep it down lest she rip out their larynxes with her bare hands.

Speaking of which…

Alonso turned to the interim body support, wondering if she knew anything about the newfound groups of people gathering near them. “Excuse me, miss-“

”Dorothy.”

”Yes, Dorothy…well…do you know what’s going on, exactly?”

The girl raised an eyebrow, and looked at him intently, as if she were watching him under a microscope. “What…do you remember happening last?”

The knight rubbed the side of his head (which still felt quite sore, understandably enough) before answering her. “I slipped on a bit of ice or garbage or something slippery like that…”

He stopped dead, as a chill went down his spine.

”…how long have I been out?” he asked, tentatively.

“Oh, not that long at all. You could say that you just got up.”

Alonso nodded, mildly surprised. However, he couldn't quite put aside a feeling of uneasiness, as though she were leaving something out. It was a feeling similar to what one felt when being offered an insurance policy by a smiling man in a plaid coat for an ever so reasonable price, and being asked to ignore the fact he happened to have a pointed tail and a forked tongue.

Even though Dorothy lacked the pointed tail and forked tongue, Alonso couldn't shake the feeling that she may be very adept at hiding such. If nothing else, he recalled tales of other librarians who were worthy of possessing such ornaments.

Giving her a scrutinizing look, he said in a low tone of voice, “I answered your question. I would appreciate it if you answered mine.”

Dorothy sighed and slumped her shoulders. “I shouldn’t be showing you this…but…”

”…but what?”

”Well…it may be easier for you to handle this if you saw it yourself.”

Filled with curiosity, he followed her, as she led him through the crowd. Despite the crowdedness, they were able to pass through them easily enough, almost as if they weren’t there. Soon enough, they reached their goal, the center of the crowd. Now to see what this spectacle was…

”…it’s a fruit cart,” said Alonso, sounding unimpressed.

Dorothy sighed irritably. “Look a little lower, near the wheels of the cart.”

Ignoring further muttering, Alonso looked down. Now, he knew it was going to be bad. He hoped it wouldn’t be, but even he knew that that was going to be a pipe dream.

As it turned out, it was…very bad. Very bad doesn’t even begin to describe it.

To explain best what Alonso is going through, it would be best to envision a lovely urn sitting upon a countertop. Inside of this urn are the cremated ashes of a beloved family member. Now, imagine that the beloved family cat has jumped atop the counter, and just knocked down the urn, sending it shattering into a cloud of dust, broken ceramics, and wailing and gnashing of teeth from those who knew the Ashes Formerly Known as Uncle Joel.

Now, if one replaces the cat with a rather heavy cart, and the urn with the body and crushed head of Alonso Zeffirelli, they might be able to relate to what the dear Soul Knight is going through right now. Granted, the story didn’t describe the general creepiness felt upon…well…seeing one’s own lifeless body on the ground while they’re still up and about and panicking quite nicely, but that’s beside the point.

“No, this can’t be…” Alonso stammered out, trying very hard not to panic. “Th-that can’t be me…I’m…I’m…”

”Dead? Kaput? Pushing up the daisies?”

“You aren’t helping!”

Turning towards her, seething with barely contained confusion fueled rage, he sputtered out, “Who…who the hell do you think you are?! I swear, if you’re-“

“I,” interrupted Dorothy, in a calm, superior tone, “am a Reaper.”

“A…what?”

“Oh, you know, Reapers.” Dorothy was about to sigh as if this should have been obvious to Alonso, but soon she reconsidered this, and instead muttered something about “damn Barians.”

”Anyways, like I was saying, I’m a Reaper. You know, usually they’re tall skeletal-like blokes, black cloaks, holding a foreboding scythe…oh, by the way, I hope you’ll forgive me for not bringing one with me. They get a bit unwieldy at times, you see…”

Careful to get a word in before she went off on a tangent about sharp pointy objects and the flaws in their respective designs, Alonso decided to intervene. Steeling himself in an attempt to calm his nerves, he gulped, and looked Dorothy straight in her eyes.

”What…what do you plan on doing with me, exactly?”

“Well…first off, I plan on bringing you back with me.”

”You what?!”

”Yeah, it’s a funny thing, the whole business about guides of the dead actually, you know, guiding the dead. Next thing you know we’ll be putting on frilly hats and organizing fancy dress parties.”

“You…you can’t bring me back!”

”I’d like to see you explain why.”

”It was an accident, that shouldn’t count!”

”Sorry, doesn’t matter.”

”I slipped-you can’t bring me in for that!”

”The way you slipped, we can, and will.”

Dorothy then took the moment to rub her temples as if she had a rather fierce migraine, and let out one of her now familiar sighs. “You know, I hoped that I wouldn’t have to resort to this…” Before Alonso could ask what “this” referred to, she stuffed her hand into a pocket of her robes, and pulled out what looked like a gleaming, silver set of…

”Handcuffs?!” shouted Alonso, indignantly. This seemed to be the final insult.

Dorothy merely shrugged, and explained,”We’ve had problems with Barians trying to escape, you see.”

Not wanting to take his chances with the Cuffs of the Undead, Alonso decided to join his brethren in this noble pursuit, and attempted to start running like hell. However, before he could get any distance, Dorothy was right behind him, wielding her shining handcuffs. She didn’t restrain him, though; instead, she brought them to the back of Alonso’s head, thus bringing him back into the familiar embrace of unconsciousness.

---

Eventually Alonso came to again, for the second time in this little saga. He moaned, and shook his head, trying to throw off the massive headache that returned once more. He attempted to rub his head to provide some relief, but he soon discovered something.

His hand was stuck.

He looked down to his hand; it was handcuffed to the thin metal arm of the chair he was propped up against. He looked to the rest of the room; it was a sterile looking waiting room, mostly white, and filled with an almost serene glow that contrasted with the hustle and bustle of its inhabitants. He then looked at what appeared to be a front desk of sorts; there he saw a winged angel in a business suit talking to a glowing white nekojin woman, comparing stories about the worst runners they’ve had to chase, and how funny the slooshing sound that their soul made was when they managed to finally wrangle the bastards.

Suddenly, the memories of the previous moments in his existence surged forth, and the full weight of what was going on dawned on him.

I…I’m dead, he thought, numbly.

The person on his left tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair in a bored manner, mumbling something under his breath about the wrong amount of glaus-horn and holly used, as well as something about an idiot apprentice.

I’m…actually dead.

Another Reaper walked by-this time, a small, red-haired catgirl-walked by, cheerfully dragging the body (or should it be spirit?) of an orc much larger than herself.

I’m really dead.

Another Reaper, a much darker looking fellow, waited for the girl, took the body, and tossed it through a newly made portal. Incidentally, the orc’s soul made the aforementioned “slooshing” sound brought up by the Angel earlier.

Sweet mother of storming fuck, I’m dead.

However, he did not have much longer to muse over this fact, as the sound of footsteps distracted his attention. Alonso looked over in the direction of the sound, and saw a familiar sight; it was his reaper, Dorothy, walking over with a smug look of satisfaction on her face.
…in a happy turn of events, at least the handcuffs seemed to be gone for the time being. Score one for not being knocked unconscious.

“So, you’re finally up,” she said in an annoyingly chipper tone, as she plopped into the empty seat next to him (for reference, this is seat not occupied by the one who was swearing vengeance on the fool who shouldn’t be let near open flames and potions ingredients for the rest of his natural life…well, what was left of it, anyways).

“Yes, thank you for that astute observation,” responded Alonso. “Next I suppose you’re going to ask about the weather and how darn comfortable these shackles are.”

She merely rolled her eyes at this. “My my, aren’t we in a lovely mood today. You know, it wouldn’t kill you to cheer up a bit…no pun intended of course.”

“Allright…” began the former Knight, in that painfully calm tone of voice that is usually reserved for fools, small children, and other especially slow and/or annoying characters, “…I go out to run and errand for my parents, only to get knocked into a coma twice-one of those comas caused by me dying, just in case you don’t remember-“

”…you’re acting like this is the first time that’s happened to somebody.”

“…and I come to in a place that isn’t supposed to even exist, chained to a chair that isn’t supposed to exist, next to somebody muttering what could be the most creative uses for an acidic potions I’ve ever heard-which could be quite amusing, if it weren’t for the small, insignificant fact that we’re both dead!”

“Yeah, I sort of noticed that fact. Speaking of which, so are a few others, to boot. Mind piping down a bit?”

Alonso stopped his tirade, and looked across the room. He was receiving a number of stares by now. The Celestial in the business suit looked slightly perturbed, while the small fuzzy reaper cleared her throat a bit. However, they soon passed…apparently, they were used to this sort of thing by now.

“Look,” he began, this time in a quieter voice, “what the hell am I supposed to do now? It isn’t like the Barian army gives training seminars on what to do if you have a fatal freak accident.”

“Well, it’s simple; you do what every other person who’s had a fatal accident does.”

”And that would be…?”

”Deal with it.”

Alonso rolled his eyes, before responding. “Yes, yes, a brilliant bit of advice. The only problem with it is that it doesn’t help me a damn bit.”

Dorothy shrugged. “Hey, it worked well enough for me.”

”…I beg your pardon?”

“Well…the thing is, not every reaper starts off that way. Sometimes they’re ordinary folk, like, say, you, or mister ‘hey, let’s pour aqua regia down his trousers’ sitting right next to you.”

”I wouldn’t really call that guy normal, to be honest.”

”That’s beside the point. What I’m trying to say here is that there are a lot of people who have it worse off than you, Melon Boy.”

He ignored the rather annoying nickname that Dorothy just stuck him with, and turned to her. Looking at her face to face, he began to talk in a calmer voice than before. “So…what’s your story, then?”

“Well…” she began, squinting as if trying to remember something from long ago, “I used to live on a farm, you see, back in Baron. Around…oh, I’d say about two hundred years ago. Anyways, it was my turn to collect the eggs that morning-“

”…do all these stories involve getting eggs?”

”Hush. Anyways, like I was saying, I was getting the eggs from the coop this morning. So, I go from nest to nest, putting them in the basket…nothing out of the ordinary.”

”And then what happened?”

Dorothy shrugged, and continued on in a calm, business-like voice. “Nothing too uncommon. I was about to walk out, when a beam fell from the roof and hit me on the head. Left a nasty smear on the floor, sort of like my gram’s strawberry preserves…well, even if there was enough left to revive, the nearest white mage lived four days away on wagon, so the point is kind of moot, isn’t it?”

Alonso just sat there, in a somewhat stunned silence, before responding to this. “I don’t know what’s more bizarre,” he began, “how deadpan you were when you told me that, or how you described it as ‘nothing too uncommon’.”

”What can I say? People really need to check for rotten support beams more often.”

Putting his free, non-cuffed hand to the side of his head, Alonso began rubbing his temple in a vain attempt to help soothe his nerves. While he was no longer as panicky and nervous as he was before, he was still a bit…well, unsettled. The accident, the capture, the reapers…it was all too much to take in one sitting. Looking towards Dorothy once more, he asked, “Er…do you mind taking the cuffs off me for a bit? You know, so I can stretch for a bit, maybe take a look around?”

Dorothy just gave him a look, while raising one of her eyebrows. It seemed that whatever Alonso was trying to pull, she wasn’t buying it.

Alonso sighed, and continued. “Look,” he said, “I just need some time alone to deal with this…to get my thoughts clear. This…this place really isn’t helping matters much. Besides, you and I both know that I can’t really run away now.”

She paused for a bit, thinking over what he just said. After a few moments of tense silence, she spoke. “Allright, then,” she said, as she took out a white silver key. “Just don’t wander off too far or too long, right? While there are celestials here to guard against spirits going where they aren’t supposed to, it can still be a dangerous place.”

”Fair enough,” he responded, as the cuffs came off with a “clink” sound. He rubbed his sore wrist for a bit before stretching, and eventually made his way from the bustling waiting room and down a strange hallway. Truth be told, Alonso really didn’t know where it went, nor did he care; all that mattered to him was that it just seemed to be more peaceful there. <p>

---

<span style="font-size:xx-small;">
"Hello, I'm Troy Mclure! You may remember me from such realms as Hell, and Gaera!"-Shinigori, OOC</span></p>Edited by: [url=http://pub30.ezboard.com/brpgww60462.showUserPublicProfile?gid=nebulaqueen>NebulaQueen</A] at: 2/29/04 9:16 pm

[SALSAlys]

Is that an...

AYRA?!

Oh my. This amuses me muchly, and the offbeat, wry style of storytelling fits well. Shizzy. ^-^

[Uncle Pervy]

Our Neb has indeed done well.

There's another Cameo as well, but no one will ever get it :D

[Endesu]

I've said it before, and I've said it again, but this is fine writing. I look forward to future installments! <p>

---

[url=http://www.fileplanet.com/dl.aspx?/planetdreamcast/sonic/music/sonic_adventure01/06_open_your_heart.mp3]Now I see what I've gotta do /
Open Your Heart /
And you will see[/url]</p>

[Dragon Sage007]

...I count three, counting Aqua Regia. Unless that guy is the one Ayra had to deal with while End-or Aya, if my memory's that fuzzy-was saying his goodbyes.

Ayra, the aqua regia, and the person Ayra reported to, supposedly Dave's character.

But the Neb has amused me! Good going, and continue this. <p>

---

<span style="font-size:x-small;">"The Bible is the greatest book ever. It's filled with prostitutes, liars, conquering kings, killers, murderers, and political intrigue. How can you go wrong?" ~My preacher.</span></p>

[Shinigori V2]

I agree with everything stated, and add-

"More" <p>

---

<div style="text-align:center">
</div>
<div style="text-align:center">Why Barius has no family reunions.</div></p>

[Spleen]

Yes, yes. I agree with Shini. <p>_________________
OLHADO: "You killed more people than anybody in history."
ENDER: "Be the best at whatever you do, that's what my mother always told me."
-Lauro Suleimão "Olhado" Ribeira and Ender Wiggin, Speaker for the Dead</p>

[Elementalist Daien]

Aqua Regia is an actual substance. Fool.




In any case: >: More. This is just too amusing.