05-22-2006, 02:37 AM
?Sir.? A young man?s voice punctuated Garlic?s daydream. The goblin grunted, refusing to look at anything besides the back of his eyelids.
?Are you Garlic? Garlic Junior?? He let one eye open a bit and looked at the acne-riddled face of a young DA Official. Was this good news or bad news?
?Yes I am.? He didn?t think he broke any rules. Maybe you weren?t allowed to sleep on park benches.
?Well, Congratulations. You are Dante?s Abyss contestant number 7.? The twenty something held out a hand and smiled a genuine smile.
?Holy shit! That?s great!? Both eyes were open now. Wide open. The corners of his mouth tugged into a huge grin. Garlic jumped out of his reclined position and stood on the bench so he was level with the messenger. He immediately seized the official?s hand with both of his own and shook vigorously. The young man let out a small whimper as the bones began to fracture. Garlic realized how much happiness he was broadcasting and let go as quickly as he had taken it. A small cough formed in his throat as if that would mask his reaction.
?Erm? I mean, only number 7? I should have been the first those bastards.? He hoped no one noticed the purplish blush creeping into his cheeks. ?So where too now?? Tear rimmed eyes looked at Garlic as the official cradled his broken fingers.
?To the ship,? the man?s voice broke slightly, ?There will be a VIP lounge and the items you will be permitted during DA. Ow??
Garlic let himself be lead onboard and to the lounge. For such a grandiose names as ?VIP Lounge? it looked more like a military barracks. The seventh bed was his he supposed and immediately he checked out the rations and equipment to be used in the competition. When he zipped that bag back up he was suddenly hit with the sense that the game was on. He stared at the last inch the zipper had to go in momentary panic. He hadn?t come out of the last one alive. He hadn?t even fought. What the hell was he doing here? Doubt wriggled in his stomach and called forth worried thoughts. It was foreign to him, to doubt success without even starting a fight. Sure he had lost hope in the middle of a battle once or twice, but his own arrogance never before let him actually worry about how he would do in the pregame. It was too akin to cowardice for his liking. Doubt melted into anger. With snarl he finished the zipper and looked at his competition. The game was now, even before the first punch. A knot of people were growing by the first bed he noticed. ?You can squash a bee but when the swarm comes you run,? a voice muttered in his head. He would have to check it out. The goblin puffed out his chest and took on the fa?ade of extreme confidence to fool them and himself.
?Planning on a team,? he asked in what he hoped was a confident, yet conversational tone. ?I am Garlic Junior,? he nodded in the mockery of a bow. ?Lets say we talk strategy. There is wisdom in the saying ?Strength in numbers?.?
?Are you Garlic? Garlic Junior?? He let one eye open a bit and looked at the acne-riddled face of a young DA Official. Was this good news or bad news?
?Yes I am.? He didn?t think he broke any rules. Maybe you weren?t allowed to sleep on park benches.
?Well, Congratulations. You are Dante?s Abyss contestant number 7.? The twenty something held out a hand and smiled a genuine smile.
?Holy shit! That?s great!? Both eyes were open now. Wide open. The corners of his mouth tugged into a huge grin. Garlic jumped out of his reclined position and stood on the bench so he was level with the messenger. He immediately seized the official?s hand with both of his own and shook vigorously. The young man let out a small whimper as the bones began to fracture. Garlic realized how much happiness he was broadcasting and let go as quickly as he had taken it. A small cough formed in his throat as if that would mask his reaction.
?Erm? I mean, only number 7? I should have been the first those bastards.? He hoped no one noticed the purplish blush creeping into his cheeks. ?So where too now?? Tear rimmed eyes looked at Garlic as the official cradled his broken fingers.
?To the ship,? the man?s voice broke slightly, ?There will be a VIP lounge and the items you will be permitted during DA. Ow??
Garlic let himself be lead onboard and to the lounge. For such a grandiose names as ?VIP Lounge? it looked more like a military barracks. The seventh bed was his he supposed and immediately he checked out the rations and equipment to be used in the competition. When he zipped that bag back up he was suddenly hit with the sense that the game was on. He stared at the last inch the zipper had to go in momentary panic. He hadn?t come out of the last one alive. He hadn?t even fought. What the hell was he doing here? Doubt wriggled in his stomach and called forth worried thoughts. It was foreign to him, to doubt success without even starting a fight. Sure he had lost hope in the middle of a battle once or twice, but his own arrogance never before let him actually worry about how he would do in the pregame. It was too akin to cowardice for his liking. Doubt melted into anger. With snarl he finished the zipper and looked at his competition. The game was now, even before the first punch. A knot of people were growing by the first bed he noticed. ?You can squash a bee but when the swarm comes you run,? a voice muttered in his head. He would have to check it out. The goblin puffed out his chest and took on the fa?ade of extreme confidence to fool them and himself.
?Planning on a team,? he asked in what he hoped was a confident, yet conversational tone. ?I am Garlic Junior,? he nodded in the mockery of a bow. ?Lets say we talk strategy. There is wisdom in the saying ?Strength in numbers?.?
Sinners make the best Saints
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