03-16-2010, 08:51 AM
The motley crew of scarecrow, tinman, lion, girl, and ‘dog’ made a single circuit of the stage, reached the end, and turned back around. As they did, Belle shot a look at Ander.
The half-saiyan growled. The memory of their previous meeting was one that made Belle’s hackles raise. Although he had forgiven Kaden and Sage - kind of - for their role in stealing his Dragon balls - mostly because he had eventually been able to make his wish - Ander was another story. The would-be thief had not only tried to steal from him, but had put a knife to Sayana's throat as well, and as annoyed as the child could sometimes make him, Belle was protective of her.
But even if Belle hadn’t cared much about Sayana, it would have been the simple fact that Ander was been willing to slit a child's throat if it meant his own personal gain. The idea that he was now being forced into a starring role in a play that was - if Cain was to be believed - for children was some kind of level of irony that Belle hadn't even known existed.
The Tin Man apparently needed a heart. Belle privately agreed. The lights dimmed as they started their second walk across the fake verdant landscape, and when the illumination bloomed again, moments later, the stage had been transformed.
The softly stroked, idyllically painted backdrop was no more. Sharply defined spires of emerald rose around them like trees in a forest. The lights from the scaffolding above reflected off the edges and made them gleam. Belle reached out to rap the back of a knuckle against the side of one of the larger edifices, and was mildly surprised when a hollow sound reverberated back at him. It looked solid throughout; clearly great care had been made to make the illusion convincing.
"Be careful, Toto," 'Dorothy' cooed. "You don't know where that's been."
"Ruff," Belle muttered. "It's not a big deal. It's just some sort of... decoration... Thing."
Belle rapped the plastic again to demonstrate, a deep thrum shivering through the spire. There was a sound like the flapping of paper as the prop wobbled from the unintentional force Belle had put into the touch, then toppled over like a falling tree toward the audience. The thickly constructed shell slammed against the stage and shattered, spitting green shards of plastic in every direction.
"Whoops." Belle paused. "Anyway... Er... Hey!" He pointed off to the side, locating a suitable distraction. "Look! It's a door!"
And it was. Nearly twice as tall as the Cowardly Lion, the gateway to the group's destination looked formidable indeed. The scarecrow tried knocking, then tried the handle. Locked. Cain stepped away and scratched his head of straw. "I guess nobody's home," Cain said, clearly making an effort to sound disappointed.
A hidden slat on the door slid open. Belle had seen things like it before, but never two feet off the ground. "Who wishes to see the Wizard?" a harsh, high voice spoke from beyond. Beady green eyes peered out from the slat, the darkness beyond hiding the rest of the face. "State your names."
"I'm Dorothy," Zhu answered with far too much ease to be natural. "These are my friends - "
"Scarecrow," Cain said.
"Tinman," Ander volunteered.
"Lion," Orion grunted.
"Tutu," Belle finished.
"Toto," Dorothy amended for him. "Please, may we see the Wizard? We've traveled ever so far, and the Good Witch of the North sent us to meet him." Zhu pulled up his skirt to reveal the glittering red slippers he wore.
Belle dry-heaved, but managed to pass it off as a cough.
The voice tsk'ed. "You've come at a bad time. A very bad time, I'm afraid. The Wizard is meeting with all the Candyshepherds of Munchkinland. But," it continued, "if the Good Witch herself has sent you, I suppose we can open a spot in his schedule. Please stand back while I open the door!"
The slat slammed shut, and a moment later the center of the double doors began to hiss steam. "Wait, what's this about a Good Witch?" Belle asked suddenly. "What's he talking about?"
There was nervous laughter - both from the audience and his companions. "Well, she's the one who I first met. Don't you remember, Toto?" Dorothy asked, smiling.
"Stop calling me that." Belle glowered, folding his arms. "And no, I don't remember, and I think I would if it was something like that. Why are we following a witch's directions? Isn't that a bad idea?"
"Toto! How mean!"
"Glinda - that's her name - is good," Scarecrow chimed in. "I remember that. She's always been kind to the Munchkins."
Belle looked to each of them in turn. None of them seemed to get the mistake that they were making. "But guys. Guys. Witches are not good. They're women. Women with magic. How do you think they get that magic? Through their blood demons."
"Oh boy, here we go," the Tinman muttered and pulled his head halfway into his armored shell like a turtle preparing to defend itself.
"My dad talked about witches a couple times. They're evil women who come to suck the life blood out of you when you least expect it. You think you're safe, and then BOOM!" He smacked his fist into his paw. "Suddenly you're old and wrinkled and you don't want to fight anymore. I'm telling you, we should just find our own way home - this is probably a trap."
The doors swung open. "No trap. No trap," came the squeaky voice again, and this time Belle could see the owner properly: a portly figure about two and a half feet in height, wearing a brilliantly green robe, a green pointed cap, and an emerald-studded ring on each of his stubby fingers. He even had a green-dyed mustache which accentuated weirdly with his otherwise rosy features.
"What the - " Belle started, then backed up. "SEE?! This is exactly what I was talking about!" He pointed. "It's one of the witch's victims!"
"Miss," the small man looked at Dorothy. "If you cannot keep your dog on a leash, I'm afraid that you will have to leave him tied up outside."
"Tempting," Orion muttered.
A minute later Belle - after much wrestling - was outfitted with a collar. A length of leather was knotted to a silver ring on the front, and 'Dorothy' held the other end. "I swear to God," Belle growled, throwing a look at the pretend girl. "If you try anything funny - anything - I'll whip you around so fast you'll think you're at a bullfight. I'll - "
Tinman cleared his throat. "What is the Wizard meeting with the Candysheperds for?" Tinman spoke over the remainder of Belle's threats.
"Oh, things have been in a right state in Munchkinland," the Munchkin sighed and started walking, little feet having to pitter-patter very quickly to keep ahead of the group. "Everyone needs sweets, but not everyone can afford to always keep a stockpile for when hard times come. The Wizard has been working with our leaders to come up with a plan for Universal Sweets Insurance, but so far nothing has come of it, and every day sweets get more expensive. Can you imagine?"
The munchkin paused, then sniffed, his eyes getting misty. "When you're tired and lonely, to have no lollipops nor gumdrops, no candy canes for your weathervanes, and no toffees in all the various flavors of coffies?" He paused, then licked his lips. "Mocoa is my favorite," he added, almost as an afterthought.
The stage suddenly rotated a hundred and eighty degrees, and the six of them - five plus one midget - rounded the corner to come around the front side once more, which had been restyled into a grand hall with a long table full of tiny, tiny people. And towering above them, looming in the mist, an amorphous shape of a head...
"Wizard!" the munchkin barked. "Travelers from Glinda, sir! They wish to speak to you!"
The half-saiyan growled. The memory of their previous meeting was one that made Belle’s hackles raise. Although he had forgiven Kaden and Sage - kind of - for their role in stealing his Dragon balls - mostly because he had eventually been able to make his wish - Ander was another story. The would-be thief had not only tried to steal from him, but had put a knife to Sayana's throat as well, and as annoyed as the child could sometimes make him, Belle was protective of her.
But even if Belle hadn’t cared much about Sayana, it would have been the simple fact that Ander was been willing to slit a child's throat if it meant his own personal gain. The idea that he was now being forced into a starring role in a play that was - if Cain was to be believed - for children was some kind of level of irony that Belle hadn't even known existed.
The Tin Man apparently needed a heart. Belle privately agreed. The lights dimmed as they started their second walk across the fake verdant landscape, and when the illumination bloomed again, moments later, the stage had been transformed.
The softly stroked, idyllically painted backdrop was no more. Sharply defined spires of emerald rose around them like trees in a forest. The lights from the scaffolding above reflected off the edges and made them gleam. Belle reached out to rap the back of a knuckle against the side of one of the larger edifices, and was mildly surprised when a hollow sound reverberated back at him. It looked solid throughout; clearly great care had been made to make the illusion convincing.
"Be careful, Toto," 'Dorothy' cooed. "You don't know where that's been."
"Ruff," Belle muttered. "It's not a big deal. It's just some sort of... decoration... Thing."
Belle rapped the plastic again to demonstrate, a deep thrum shivering through the spire. There was a sound like the flapping of paper as the prop wobbled from the unintentional force Belle had put into the touch, then toppled over like a falling tree toward the audience. The thickly constructed shell slammed against the stage and shattered, spitting green shards of plastic in every direction.
"Whoops." Belle paused. "Anyway... Er... Hey!" He pointed off to the side, locating a suitable distraction. "Look! It's a door!"
And it was. Nearly twice as tall as the Cowardly Lion, the gateway to the group's destination looked formidable indeed. The scarecrow tried knocking, then tried the handle. Locked. Cain stepped away and scratched his head of straw. "I guess nobody's home," Cain said, clearly making an effort to sound disappointed.
A hidden slat on the door slid open. Belle had seen things like it before, but never two feet off the ground. "Who wishes to see the Wizard?" a harsh, high voice spoke from beyond. Beady green eyes peered out from the slat, the darkness beyond hiding the rest of the face. "State your names."
"I'm Dorothy," Zhu answered with far too much ease to be natural. "These are my friends - "
"Scarecrow," Cain said.
"Tinman," Ander volunteered.
"Lion," Orion grunted.
"Tutu," Belle finished.
"Toto," Dorothy amended for him. "Please, may we see the Wizard? We've traveled ever so far, and the Good Witch of the North sent us to meet him." Zhu pulled up his skirt to reveal the glittering red slippers he wore.
Belle dry-heaved, but managed to pass it off as a cough.
The voice tsk'ed. "You've come at a bad time. A very bad time, I'm afraid. The Wizard is meeting with all the Candyshepherds of Munchkinland. But," it continued, "if the Good Witch herself has sent you, I suppose we can open a spot in his schedule. Please stand back while I open the door!"
The slat slammed shut, and a moment later the center of the double doors began to hiss steam. "Wait, what's this about a Good Witch?" Belle asked suddenly. "What's he talking about?"
There was nervous laughter - both from the audience and his companions. "Well, she's the one who I first met. Don't you remember, Toto?" Dorothy asked, smiling.
"Stop calling me that." Belle glowered, folding his arms. "And no, I don't remember, and I think I would if it was something like that. Why are we following a witch's directions? Isn't that a bad idea?"
"Toto! How mean!"
"Glinda - that's her name - is good," Scarecrow chimed in. "I remember that. She's always been kind to the Munchkins."
Belle looked to each of them in turn. None of them seemed to get the mistake that they were making. "But guys. Guys. Witches are not good. They're women. Women with magic. How do you think they get that magic? Through their blood demons."
"Oh boy, here we go," the Tinman muttered and pulled his head halfway into his armored shell like a turtle preparing to defend itself.
"My dad talked about witches a couple times. They're evil women who come to suck the life blood out of you when you least expect it. You think you're safe, and then BOOM!" He smacked his fist into his paw. "Suddenly you're old and wrinkled and you don't want to fight anymore. I'm telling you, we should just find our own way home - this is probably a trap."
The doors swung open. "No trap. No trap," came the squeaky voice again, and this time Belle could see the owner properly: a portly figure about two and a half feet in height, wearing a brilliantly green robe, a green pointed cap, and an emerald-studded ring on each of his stubby fingers. He even had a green-dyed mustache which accentuated weirdly with his otherwise rosy features.
"What the - " Belle started, then backed up. "SEE?! This is exactly what I was talking about!" He pointed. "It's one of the witch's victims!"
"Miss," the small man looked at Dorothy. "If you cannot keep your dog on a leash, I'm afraid that you will have to leave him tied up outside."
"Tempting," Orion muttered.
A minute later Belle - after much wrestling - was outfitted with a collar. A length of leather was knotted to a silver ring on the front, and 'Dorothy' held the other end. "I swear to God," Belle growled, throwing a look at the pretend girl. "If you try anything funny - anything - I'll whip you around so fast you'll think you're at a bullfight. I'll - "
Tinman cleared his throat. "What is the Wizard meeting with the Candysheperds for?" Tinman spoke over the remainder of Belle's threats.
"Oh, things have been in a right state in Munchkinland," the Munchkin sighed and started walking, little feet having to pitter-patter very quickly to keep ahead of the group. "Everyone needs sweets, but not everyone can afford to always keep a stockpile for when hard times come. The Wizard has been working with our leaders to come up with a plan for Universal Sweets Insurance, but so far nothing has come of it, and every day sweets get more expensive. Can you imagine?"
The munchkin paused, then sniffed, his eyes getting misty. "When you're tired and lonely, to have no lollipops nor gumdrops, no candy canes for your weathervanes, and no toffees in all the various flavors of coffies?" He paused, then licked his lips. "Mocoa is my favorite," he added, almost as an afterthought.
The stage suddenly rotated a hundred and eighty degrees, and the six of them - five plus one midget - rounded the corner to come around the front side once more, which had been restyled into a grand hall with a long table full of tiny, tiny people. And towering above them, looming in the mist, an amorphous shape of a head...
"Wizard!" the munchkin barked. "Travelers from Glinda, sir! They wish to speak to you!"
![[Image: Bellesig6-1.jpg]](http://i238.photobucket.com/albums/ff137/catseye543/Bellesig6-1.jpg)