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thirsty-boba-fett-posts · 2 years ago

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Part X of The Princess Saga, a therapeutic exercise in fiction writing. If you’re here it’s because you want to be on this journey with me.

tw: smut, frank discussions of torture and PTSD, an unmitigated ass whoopin’

Zobrapus pending arrival was an all-hands-on-deck situation. The Mods (and Drash in particular) having grown fond of the Princess, readied their grafted weapons and sparred with Krrsantan in the palace courtyard. Fennec cleaned and inspected her sniper rifle. The Daimyo sent word to the heads of the other crime families of Mos Espa and Mos Eisley that they should not interfere should representatives of Brao seek their aid in a matter that he referred to as “strictly personal,” and he advised the Freetown Marshall that the Daimyo Boba Fett would rain fire on any Brao emissaries who attempted to intimidate Freetown residents.

Cobb Vanth, for his part, offered to be present for the meeting and whatever violence may occur afterwards. Ever the gunslinger, Fett thought.

Ideally, threats masquerading as negotiations would be enough to put Zobrapus in his place. Fett was not eager to spill blood, but should his Princess safety require it, he would spill enough blood to make an ocean of the Dune Sea.

…

The night before the scheduled conference with Zobrapus and whatever sycophants and hangers-on he planned to drag along with him, Fett sat on the Bantha hide with The Princess in his lap. The tension around the palace, all of it centered around her, was more pressure than she could tolerate and she’d regressed emotionally. His touch brought her back to herself, but otherwise she was distance and abstracted.

Fett knew that for The Princess, the opportunity to confront Zobrapus would be both excruciating and cathartic. She had not wavered in her desire to see this through, and Fett admired her commitment to rebuilding herself.

He kissed the back of her neck. She returned to herself once again, and Fett bit gently into her shoulder. She leaned back against him and sighed. Fett palmed her breasts and nuzzled her hair.

Initially, it surprised Fett to learn that tactile sensations brought her such comfort. To him it seemed counterintuitive, but he knew that any pathway into her fragile psyche could allow him to lead her out of anguish. He utilized touch now to soothe and reassure her. With her back pressed into his chest, he placed one hand on her throat and with the other, he reached between her legs to make gentle, slow circles on her clit. He whispered in her ear as he pleasured her.

“Cyare, you are the Dune Sea at twilight. You are the cool night winds and the heat of the campfire. You are the water of the black melon on my lips.”

She leaned her head back onto his shoulder and exhaled a low moan. She trusted him and for it, Fett adored her. She allowed him to touch her so intimately and illicit such intense responses. He felt honored. She was so reserved and fearful but for her Daimyo she was pliant and willing.

She moaned again and he praised her.

“Good girl, mesh’la. You’re such a good girl for me.”

Her back arched and she gripped his forearm. He held her tightly as she came and rocked her in his lap afterwards. She melted into him, almost limp in his arms. Her dread had exhausted her, but the orgasm has mercifully drained the tension from her body. She slept soundly in the arms of her Daimyo.

…

Fennec watched them approach through the scope of her sniper rifle. A small contingent, but heavily armed and led by a bird faced, sallow man a few years older than the Princess but without her practiced air of grace and nobility. The twin suns glinted off of ostentatious medals on his uniform. His confidence seemed spurious at best. Maybe he realized what a mistake he’d made coming here to take what doesn’t belong to him, thought Fennec. She signaled Krrsantan and The Mods to take their stations and have their weapons at the ready.

8D8 announced their entrance with more derision in his tone than was typical. Fennec, having made her way from the tower, stood menacingly at the Daimyo’s right. The Princess stood at his left, spine erect and head held high, in her green dress made to match the Daimyo’s armor.

That morning, the Daimyo had gifted his Princess a necklace and earrings of gold from a small vein on Neftali, Krayt dragon pearls, and - most extravagant of all - garnets originally mined on Alderaan. The opulent gift had taken her breath away. He kissed her temple as laid the necklace across her collarbone and fastened the clasp behind her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. Resting her forehead on his, she whispered “thank you, my Daimyo” and he knew in that moment that no force in the universe could take her from him.

Her three Dune Spiders hovered on the wall behind her. Fru crouched atop the Daimyo’s throne, looking as fierce as his wild ancestors. The Great Boba Fett, son of Jango Fett and Daimyo of Mos Espa, sat at ease on this throne with his forearms on the arm rests and his legs open.

“Come forward.”

He signaled for the contingency, led by what he assumed must be Zobrapus, to approach so that he may address them.

The Princess lifted her skirt, stepped boldly off of the great stone platform on which the throne rested, and approached Zobrapus. Before anyone could react, she brought her right arm back and with a powerful rotational swing beginning in her hips, she slapped him so hard the sound of the heel of her hand meeting his jaw in an upward trajectory echoed off the walls of the throne room.

Zobrapus rocked back and stumbled into one of his underlings. There was the sound of weapons being unholstered and safeties clicking off. The Dune Spiders bolted from the wall to stand next to The Princess and stood erect on their hind legs.

Only the Daimyo and his Princess remained still. He remained relaxed, she kept her shoulders back and her chin defiantly high.

“She has every right to slap the taste out of your mouth, boy,” said Fett coolly. “I have a hard time believing that women don’t typically greet you with hostility.”

Zobrapus rubbed the side of his face as he righted himself. “I came here to negotiate-“

“Ah, but my Princess has a score to settle with you and I’m inclined to let her,” Fett cut him off. “Are you not the reason she arrived at my doorstep in bloody rags. Are you not the reason she spent seven days in my bacta tank? Tell me, boy, how do you conduct yourselves on Brao? Is it not illegal under the laws of a civilized system to brutalize political prisoners under the guise of interrogation?”

Zobrapus blanched. “We had reason to believe she knew the whereabouts of her father, a criminal-“

“Once again I ask you, boy, is Brao not a civilized planet? Is it a lawless place? Perhaps you need a daimyo and a few strong families to whip your ungovernable planet into shape.”

Zobrapus expression was fiercely indignant. He was trembling with rage.

“Apprehend her!” he spat.

His entourage, men no older or wiser than him, seemed reluctant. In the space of their hesitation, The Princess spoke in a voice so clear and strong that it stunned the Daimyo.

“I am the Princess of Broa, High Souverain of the Brightest Sun of The Tolvin System, Heir to the House of The Black Rathgar, ordained by the High God Who Rules The Forests and Oceans and I command you, soldiers of Broa, my sworn brothers, obey your oath to protect me from all enemies both without and within the Tolvin system and sheath your weapons.”

Feeling the full weight of their true duty to their Princess, the men formerly under Zobrapus command lowered their blasters and holstered them. Zobrapus seemed to shrink, his face screwing in frustration.

He looked around himself at his men and hissed. “How dare you betray me!”

“No,” replied The Princess. “It is you who betrayed me. You beat me mercilessly for information that I did not have. You sentenced me to die for crimes I did not commit. You came into the house of My Daimyo and threatened his family. I’m still not entirely sure to what point and purpose to executed this foolish endeavor and I do not care.”

Her face was indignant now. Her Dune Spiders stood so close to her that they brushed her skirts with the hairs of their spindly legs. Fett maintained his easy posture on his thrown. His Princess had taken command of the situation and he need not worry, only provide her with support. Fennec fought to hide her disappointment. She’d hoped for an opportunity to crack Zobrapus skull against one of Jabba’s old statuaries or watch Krrsantan knuckle dust the lot of them into pulp to feed to the Dune Spiders.

“You father would not give you to me,” said Zobrapus through tight lips. “He seemed so disinterested in you, and yet when my own father attempted to negotiate for your hand, the king rejected his proposal outright. Our families fought alongside each other for centuries! I am of good breeding!”

The Princess screeched with laughter. From the shadows, The Mods all snorted. Drash could barely contain herself. Even Fennec chuckled.

“So you beat me within an inch of my life! You invertebrate! You pond sludge!” she shrieked through hysterical laughter.

She composed herself and addressed the Braoan soldiers graciously then. “Take him back to Brao. My brothers, do not let him embarrass himself further. Save him from himself.”

They bowed low and complied. Fennec followed them through the scoped of her rifle as they dragged Zobrapus out of the palace and back to their ship. They departed shortly thereafter.

…

@daimyosprincess

@ladytano420

@dukeoftheblackstar

@rexxdjarin

@nintendobl00d

I TOLD Y’ALL IT WAS GONNA BE WILD.

#boba fett x reader #the book of boba fett #boba fett imagine #boba fett thots

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bananaangry · 2 years ago

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Ancient empires medieval total war 1

Ancient empires medieval total war 1 full#

If that's your situation, hang around the sub for a couple of days and leave a few comments - you'll be able to post in no time! Need more details? Read our full rules here. In fact, it is their reverence of the old ways that has brought the empire to a point of stagnation, in a world that has gradually kept moving on. It is a mere shadow because despite retaining the civilised ways of the Roman legacy, the Byzantines have done little to further it. Our automoderator also prevents spam by deleting posts from users less than four days old or who have less than three karma. Byzantium is the shadow that remains of the old Roman Empire. Giveaways and contests must be approved beforehand by the moderation team. For starters, it is the Byzantine Empire that truly carries on the legacy of the ancient Romans, and the notion that the Kaiser (the Germanic name for 'Emperor') truly serves the Roman Catholic. No politics allowedĭon't derail threads with off-topic memes or controversy. The Holy Roman Empire is a particularly misleading name for Europes largest collective of kingdoms and fiefdoms, regardless which way one looks at it. TROY Total War: TROY - Official TrailerĪll posts must be related to the Total War series.WH2 The Twisted & The Twilight Announcement.WH3 Total War: Warhammer III Announcement Trailer.Post your strategies, thoughts, links and reviews here. Ělso includes added functionality for the main game, such as flaming ammunition and three new factions with which to play through the original Grand Campaign.Click here to set your flair! Welcome to /r/TotalWar!Ī subreddit for all of those who love the Total War series.Ědds new Anglo-Saxon and Viking factions with additional units alongside the detailed new Campaign map.Set upon an extended map of the British Isles and western Scandinavia and taking place from 793 to 1066, Viking Invasion allows the player to assume the role of leader of the Viking faction as they raid, loot and pillage their way to supremacy.Īlternatively the player may take control of early Anglo-Saxon factions, such as Wessex and Mercia, with the aim of repelling the Viking invasion and ultimately controlling the British Isles in its entirety. Valour, Vice and Virtues colour your faction’s characters, effecting how other treat them and the men they lead.Ībout MEDIEVAL: Total War™ - Viking Invasion.New siege systems make the most of an era where formidable castles dotted the landscape.Up to 10,000 soldiers on-screen deliver incredible, epic battle scenes.ğourteen playable factions from across Europe, the Middle East and Africa.Carve a niche for yourself through the crucible of battle and become the statesman and king the era demands. Recruit and deploy armies, besiege settlements, fight naval battles and employ agents such as emissaries, spies and assassins to aid with diplomacy, offer alliances or bribes, or execute more clandestine actions.Ī dramatic period of rebellion, civil war, and the birthing of nations provides the backdrop to your own scheme for ultimate power. About This Game MEDIEVAL: Total War™ - Collection Edition is the compilation of the critically-acclaimed Medieval: Total War and its official expansion pack - Viking Invasionįrom the lush grasslands of Western Europe to the arid deserts of Northern Africa, and from the first Crusade to the fall of Constantinople, wage total war in order to expand your influence and secure your reign as you build a dynastic empire to stretch across four centuries.

#Ancient empires medieval total war 1

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anarchistbanjo · 7 years ago

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The Strangling Hand Ch 1 Pg 25-32

The Strangling Hand by Karl Hans Strobl translated by Joe E. Bandel Copyright Joe E. Bandel The Strangling Hand Ch 1 pg 25-32

He appeared entirely absorbed in himself, unapproachable, unmoving like the statue of a god, behind whose stone face wild lechery lurked and whose body was completely filled with a tense power. Out of the rich treasures portrayed in the works of the poet which she had inherited, was an image that seemed to attach itself to this man, this emissary. It was the image of the Asian despot, ruler over millions of slaves as he crowded them closely together in order to transport them.

The curtain moved a little, the stranger glanced in her direction and without embarrassment gave up his comfortable posture and stood up.

“I was not announced, gracious Frau, my name is Rudolph Hainx.”

Frau Emma forced herself to nod, and then with a smile in which the corners of his mouth only lifted a little, he continued:

“I am not a journalist. I must say that first, and when I found a gentleman from the press here I immediately took the opportunity to get rid of him so he would not bother you any more. For that service I must ask you to hear me out.”

“I am prepared to listen to you.”

In the most privileged quarter of our city, there, right where the countryside presses against the city, stands a large garden and villa, one filled with every luxury that there is. The steps are made of Paris marble, and rambling Goldilocks climb upon the walls. The furniture is designed by Riemer-Schmidt and delivered from workshops in the United States. The glasses in the credenza are from Tiffany’s in New York.

In a small room, whose window shimmers with all the colors of the rainbow, you will find a chest, whose drawers protect jewelry created by Lalique. A front room, which is like an atrium, a quadrangle cut from the heavens, is cooled in the summer by one of Hermann Obrist’s elaborate fountains. Now, I know that you love paintings, so I must not forget to say that scattered through separate chambers are paintings by Bocklin, Thoma, Manet and Leibl. The stairs and front hall are filled with acrylics, and one room is decorated with original Hokusai paintings which you love so much. And for evening twilight, to inspire your dreams, is a cabinet with portraits and etchings of genuine Rembrandts.

All of the great arts are allowed to stream through this princely home. You will find a music room and a rich library with rare printings and incunables. There is an ancient Roman bath and a horse stable with English and Arabian race horses. You would not exhaust the riches of this house in an entire year. There are other collections as well that I can’t forget to mention, a weapon collection in one hall and a well organized collection of postage stamps in another.

When you go through a flight of chambers, it is like wandering through the styles and cultures of all times, from ancient Assyrian to the Epoch of Biedermeier, and I will add that the furniture and appliances in this house are not copies, but original working pieces. The gardens around the house consist of individual partitions, in which you will be enchanted by gardening arts of the past. You will find replicas of the hanging gardens of Semiramis and the intricately interlaced and precious Bosketts of Trianon. A crowd of servants will fulfill your every wish.”

“I have listened to you; why are you telling me all of this?”

“On an island in the Adriatic ocean, which has never known winter, is another house which contains all the wonders and hot freedom of paradise, built in the Grecian style. From the columned entrance you can see the ocean, which is more beautiful there than anywhere else, more moody, more moving, with many sleepy colors that awaken to play in the morning and evening. A balcony, high above the rustling tree tops, gives a free view in all directions, and the most difficult and urgent longings will find wings and become more easy and joy filled there. Nothing prevents you from living there in luxurious solitude or reveling with good friends in a Hellenistic kingdom. There in view of the ocean and the heavens you can once more find undespairing joy and build a new radiant temple over the ruins of the past. A boat floats in a little harbor, and reddish purple sails shimmer through the tips of the pines. This boat is similar to the grandness of the ship Agrippa, and like it contains rare luxuries collected together in the smallest spaces.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because I come to offer you this house in the city and the one on the island.”

Frau Emma reeled under the thought, in which she appeared to fall to ruin, torn by blind and senseless forces from the solid stronghold of her newly made plans. What kind of image was this? How could this confusion of colors and brilliance be her future? Really, the description of this magnificence was dangerous. And this offer was not a joke, she could see the seriousness in the unmoving mask of this man, as he now pulled a long paper out of his breast pocket and laid it out on the writing desk.

“It goes without saying, that I would not make this offer without being prepared to also offer you the money needed for all possible trivialities that would allow you to live such a life without a care. Just name an amount, which you think will suffice, and don’t be shy. My offer has only one limit down below, but none above. Speak your fantasy, to arrange a fairy tale of gold. I am authorized to make this check out for any sum which you name.”

“You offer me an immense treasure. I must admit that this has me all confused. What do you want of me? You speak of a contract. What is this contract? Look around you , and you will see my past. What do I have to offer that is worth such a future? Is your offer a gift? Whose gift? And what ... My God!...”

“You can call my offer a gift. What is needed is so simple, that there shouldn’t be any problem. Many others would not even stop to consider it, if they were offered millions upon millions. Before I tell you what is needed, I will give you something else to think about. Do the memorials of our past depend upon objects, real things, or rather much more upon tender and incontrovertible memories of real life experiences that can’t be erased?

If Caesar had lost his fame as a warrior, would his glorious past be extinguished; if the manuscript of his memoirs over the Gaullish war had been destroyed in fire; if a thief had stolen the suit of armor, which the commander had worn in the battle against Vercingetorix? Would Tamerlane’s career have been altered, would he have not won as many victories, if the skulls of his demoralized enemies had been allowed to fall from the spear tips, decay and turn to dust?”

“Be silent, be silent, I sense...”

“You have promised to hear me out. I know from the newspapers, that your husband’s will contained a strange order concerning his head. I also know that Eleagabal Kuperus has the capability of fulfilling this wish of the dead. My offer stands therein, to offer you all of these things, which I have previously made an effort to describe to you, in exchange for that head.”

The trembling fingers of Emma played around the heavy bronze sphinx, which lay upon the writing desk. But the eyes of Rudolph Hainx suddenly lit up like flaming stars and forced her glance back down. She didn’t dare look him in the eyes anymore and allowed him to sit back down at the writing desk, pick up the quill and prepare to write. The quill, with which a poet had once written a difficult sonnet, now stood at a steep angle in the hand of this stranger.

Emma had never seen such a hand. It was a cold, scrawny hand, whose sinews suddenly sprang out from the wrist as if they could not wait to elongate into fingers and transmit their command. The fingers were crooked and pointed, and on the wrist, clusters of hair grew in rocky fissures of the wrinkled skin down to the yellow knuckles. It was a gentleman’s hand, that was soft and delicate, with beautiful rounded curves , yet without the gentle swelling of fat that would hinder its grip. It was the hand of a master that lay upon the paper, which stretched tautly, prepared to write down an endless series of numbers. Evil eyes burned like perishing stars over this decisive moment.

“You say that you are making this proposal for someone else. Won’t you tell me who this contract belongs to?” “I see that it is important for you to know this. You should know that my client has the power to fulfil his promise, but also, that it stands in his power to make being disobedient to his wishes very taxing. He has commanded me to reveal his name in only the most exceptional case. I show you the honor of realizing that your reluctance is so heavy that this exceptional case is needed.”

“– Herr Bezug has sent me to you.”

At that the Frau sprang up to the messenger, tore the quill from out of his hand and threw it to the floor with such violence that it remained stuck upright in a black splotch.

“Get out!” She screamed, “Get out!”

And now she dared look him in the eyes; now he had no more power over her. Rudolph Hainx took his dusty gray gloves from the chair and picked up his hat.

“You will regret this!”

Frau Emma looked around, as if searching for a weapon to use against him. Then she ran to the door of the courtyard and leaned against the iron railing that sagged beneath her weight. She appeared prepared to call the entire house for help against the messenger, to set all the neighbors against him. Rudolph Hainx stepped past without her seeing, an envoy whose deal had been broken, and went forth in order to declare a war. His smooth, immaculate elegance framed the dirty walls of the stairs for a moment as he climbed down, only to once more come into view before crossing the courtyard down below and disappearing out the wide mouth of the main house door.

I am currently translating this book a few pages at a time. I will be posting them as I translate them. If you enjoy this story and type of literature please support me and become a patron. Translation is hard work and takes a lot of time. Consider donating $1 a month to help out. This book is over 500 pages long! You can donate at my website: http://thelastrosicrucian.is/wp/ or my Patreon link: https://www.patreon.com/anarchistbanjo Comments are welcome!

#adventure #fiction #translation #literature

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eriseclipsenuiwitch · 8 years ago

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The Outcasts- chapter 4

"Something happened," Kira briefly commented, staring at her roommate while they were getting ready for work. Slowly dusk fell.

"How did you deduce that?" Yaga raised an eyebrow.

"Because you packed all the things you came here with," said the Sram cultist, pulling away a completly white strand from her face. She had to cut her hair soon. "Listen, I promised I won't be dwelling in your business, but I'd be a bad friend if I allowed something to happen to you."

"This is a surprisingly nice gesture from you," muttered the dark-haired woman, and Kira reacted with an outraged snort. "Okay, okay, you're right, something happened. I met Master Joris."

"Ambassador of Bonta?!" Kira almost jumped with excitement. There were legends about this guy...!

"I heard about only one" Jaga shrugged. "At least he presented himself as Master Joris. Never mind, in any case, he told me someone was looking for me. And if the alleged Ambassador Bonty found me, then surely they too. So today I'm leaving, just talk to Madame Litchi"

"The old witch won't be happy," Kira muttered. "Okay, maybe you have no damned idea about dance and sing, but you're awesome actress and everyone can confirm that."

"Thanks," the dark-haired girl smiled, a little wryly. She didn't value her stage skills so much "one last performance and I'm out of here"

"And I dunno a damn thing" the Sram cultist nodded. Jaga smiled again, this time more friendly. It's good to have such a roommate.

-----------------------

Not without reason Port Mali was called the coastal Brakkmar. As soon as night fell, all the fishermen and merchants were fleening from their stalls and hiding in their homes to make space for the real rulers of this city- all those who lived from black magic, poisons, gambling, song and dance.

Kira and Yaga worked in the Madame Litchi's cabaret, known as the "Palace of Stained Glass". The name was most accurate because wall from sea's side contained three circular stained glass windows, through which sunset light and moonlight came through.

"Here you are, you lazy monkeys!" snarled for a hello Madame Litchi, a mighty, slightly obese Pandadwa in costly robes and with huge fan in her hand, seeing her two subordinates "You supposed be here half an hour ago."

"We were supposed to be at 18.45," Yaga remarked.

"And it's 18.30," Kira said, looking at clock attached to the waist of a Xelor girl who was working with machinery at the backstreet.

"DON'T TALK ME BACK!" The woman roared "To the dressing room and dress up, or I'll cut off your bonus!"

"Do we have a bonus?" Kira was surprised, looking away from the clock.

"You think so, remember this time when naphthalene balls appeared in the wardrobe?" I think it was a bonus," the dark-haired reminded.

"OOOOOUT!" Madame Litchi screamed, so Kira and Yaga quickly went out of her sight.

-----------------

Adamai, Ush, Remington and a man in the hood entered the Palace of the Stained Glass, where, as their agents had told them, they should now be looking for a girl. The interior of the cabaret was smoked with smoke and poorly lit. In one corner concentrated the seamen and fishermen, in another, city council (without the mayor, because he was new one and not yet accustomed to his profession), the priests of local denominations and, in the end, the tourists, including the emissaries of Lady Echo.

"Are you sure it's here?" Adamai looked at Ecaflip uncertainly ashe noticed one of the girls working here "What exactly does this powerful sorceress do?"

"She's some kind of actress," Ush said with a shrug. "Do you know how she looks like?"

"Yes," nodded the young dragon and took a small portrait of wanted girl's face from the pocket of his cloak, "Better find some good observation point"

The four strangers sat at the table by the stage, which was decorated... in a very specific way. Fog vapors, braided trees (artificial) and something like... a gravestones?

Suddenly, the curtain went aside and a tall connoisseur, with cane in her hande, dressed in a suit and a top-hat entered the stage, but it was difficult to determine whether it was she or he.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen" the announcer cocked their hat and proved beyond doubt that she was a woman. She had lightly tanned skin, short cut, white hair, brown eyes with a slight touch of red and a white skull painted on her face "Some people said that true art is defending itself. But not from me." Here she gave the audience a smile full of teeth "I will tell you the story from distant lands. About drama. Love. Passion. And extremely abominable, foul murder."

"About what?!" Adamai wondered. He always thought that cabaret shows were rather... merry, not murderous.

"Kira is a Sram's worshipper, she always gives such shows," Ush said, apparently familiar with the local program.

"Get it, boys" the announcer murmured casually, not exactly to the audience, and the orchestra behind her firstly experimented with one chord on their instruments, and then they played the right melody. Kira waved her cane and opened her mouth "Heey! Give me a listen you corpses of cheer, Leastles of you who still got an ear" Here she sent a meaningful glance to the group of sailors who hadn't some part of their bodies "I'll tell you a story make a skeleton cry of our own jubiliciously lovely corpse bride!"

From behind the curtain came out a rather short, almost morbid pale girl in a black like tar and a slightly torn wedding dress. Her eyes and forehead were covered by a black veil supported by flower crown made of crimson roses. She smiled broadly to the audience, as did her stage partner, showing a lot of teeth (some teases that it was a smile that shows her teeth and the teeth of the people next to her) and joined Kira.

"Die, die we all pass away!" The two artists cried out while dancing a faster version of waltz mixed with tango. "But don't wear a frown cuz it's really okay!"

"And you might try 'n' hide!" the orchestra added "And you might try 'n' pray!"

"But we all end up the remains of the Day!" the two girl finished.

"Who is she?" Remington whispered, glaring at the ankles and calves that sometimes popped out of the skirt of the 'corpse bride'; He has not seen such nice ankles for a long time.

"Our goal," Adamai snapped, not paying attention to the show.

"One hundred years more, and I would take that as a subtext" murmured their hooded companion, for which he got a punch in left side. With so many people around Adamai couldn't afford to hit his face, or something more painful.

"Well, our girl is a beauty known for miles around" the Sram's follower continued the recital and pantomime "When a mysterious stranger came into Town. He's plenty good lookin', but down on his Cash, And our poor little baby, she fell hard and Fast" Here she stroked the cheek of her companion for what she got slap in hand "When her daddy said no, she just couldn't cope, So our lovers came up with a plan to elope!"

"Die, die we all pass away!" This time the chorus was sung only by the orchestra and the girls started dancing again "But don't wear a frown cuz it's really okay. And you might try 'n' hide, And you might try 'n' pray. But we all end up the remains of the Day!"

Suddenly, the lights turned violet, and in the twilight appeared oddly thin figures swirling in the dance. After a while it turned out that they are girls with painted skulls on their faces and bones on arms, backs and chests. This Danse Macabre was led by the announcer and the corpse bride.

------------------------

"Yaga, you're leadin' again," Kira observed, not interrupting the dance.

"Really?" Yaga grinned. Sram also showed her teeth and they continued dancing.

Some viewers tried to grab them and pull them off the stage, but some well-aimed kicks solved the problem.

"Something's wrong with those four," Yaga muttered. With the veil on her face, no one saw where she was looking.

"Those near the scene?" Kira also noticed them, but she tried not to stop the show "I know this Ecaflip, cheeky puppy, or kitten if You want to be exact, but the rest are new guys."

"Two have a strange aura," whispered the dark haired female "I need to move"

"To do" The Sram cultist discreetly handed a signals to female Xelor, operating the machines behind the stage. "How much time do you need?"

"Twenty seconds," Jaga replied.

"Okay," Kira nodded. "Now help me bend back, come on!"

Yaga put her hand on Kira's waist in the cross region and helped her bend back and not fall over.

"Oh, that's nice," Kira muttered, staring at the region a little below Yaga's neck, for what she was jokingly slapped in the cheek. "Hahaha! So they conjured up a plan to meet late at night. They told not a soul, kept the whole thing tight. Now her mother's wedding dress fit like a glove, You don't need much when you're really in love. Except for a few things, or so I'm told Like the family jewls and a sachel of gold!" Here she caught Yaga for her wrist showing the audience a silver ring with a sapphire, and 'corpse bride’ pulled Kira by the ear with a gold earring "Then next to the grave yard by the old oak tree, On a dark foggy night at a quarter to Tyree. She was ready to go, but where was He?"

"And then?" one of the musicians asked.

"She waited" Kira answered.

"And then?"

"There in the shadows, was it the man?"

"And then?"

"Het little heart beat so loud!"

"And then?!" now almost whole audience was asking.

"And then, baby" Yaga's covered eyes looked at the audience "everything went black."

For a moment there was total darkness. The dancers disappeared. When the light came on again, only the bride and the announcer were on stage. The woman in the suit was holding her hands in front of her companion's eyes.

"Now when she opened her eyes she was dead as dust, Her jewls were missin' and her heart was bust." Kira took her hands and showed everyone Yaga's face. Several men and a few women sighed. With make-up and swirly paintings on the face and illuminated with the appropriate light she looked unearthly. And these eyes... Suddenly Jaga moved forward as if looking for someone in the audience "So she made a vow lyin' under that tree That she'd wait for her true love to come set her free" The 'corpse bride' reached the end of the stage, to the table at which the Lady Echo's agents were sitting and crouched. Such little joke, provocation. Her attention was entirely devoted to the man in the hood. In its shadow she saw blue, swollen like drowned man's lips and something like... "Always waiting for someone to ask for her hand When out of the blue comes this groovy young man" Before Yaga kissed these blue, slightly open lips, Kira quickly pulled her away from the table and started spinning her with her again. They were getting closer to center of stage "Who vows forever to be by her side And that's the story of our own corpse briiiiiideeee!"

The orchestra didn't even finish playing a tune when under Yaga opened up a hidden hatch and the girl disappeared under the stage leaving behind only her black dress, because its flounces entangled in the hinges.

"What the…?!" Ush and Adamai rose from their seats.

"Oops," Kira's smile said brightly, that there was no breakdown or accident at all.

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It's a last time when I put song in chapter. In that way, at least. It was more difficult than writing a normal story!

Song's title is "Remains of the Day" from Tim Burton's "The Corpse Bride". I noticed that this song sounds a little like a some kind folk ballad which you can sing everywhere if you planned everything in right way.

#outcasts #fanfic #wakfu #Yaga

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