Welcome to another episode of "WHATEVER THIS STORY IS CALLED":
brought to you by Kyrinn and masked-phantom.
This episode features… NINJAS :D
Okay, no, it doesn't... but it features Trelves, which are better than ninjas because they have pointy ears, while ninjas do not.
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"ORDER!! Order in the court!!!" the judge trelf yelled from his place atop the...podium...thingy. The author is not in mock trial.
Why are we in a court? Well, you see, the answer is quite obvious. Let's recap, shall we?
His Majesty = has face with that expression
, and forbids people to laugh at him
Al = pansy trelf, who proved his manliness by trying to strangle his royal guy, but also laughed at said royal guy
So Al is now on trial. In a court. With a judge.
Who has a podium thingy, by the way, in case we forgot to tell you. This author is also not in mock trial.
No, So neither author knows anything about court cases...
Except one word: "OBJECTION!!"
I OBJECT!
To the objection...?
I also know the word gavel. And wig. Judges wear wigs. Sometimes.
Ooh. Nifty. In the world of trelves, who are manly, wigs do not matter, and gavels are known as "those things used for tenderizing the skulls of those who do not agree with you."
But that brings us back to our subject: Al and his laughter.
Right now, the poor captain of the guard and official toast-maker was sitting at that little stand for the person being accused of stuff.
The court assembled in a courtly fashion within the confines of the courtroom. Again, the judge banged his thing used for tenderizing the skulls of those who do not agree with you, and cried out, "Order! Order!" though there truly was no need, as the room was filled with less than ten people, himself included.
On one side of the room, at a little desk-like thing, sat the prosecution: the royal guy and his head lackey/secret service agent who was currently serving as a lawyer though he knew nothing of the subject. On the other side sat the defense: another castle servant who was also serving as a sort of lawyer, since the royal guy was *really* short on staff.
Wow...technical language...
Yep. "Sat, "side," "short" ...alliteration? Moving on.
It's about to get a whole lot less technical...
Which isn't saying much.
The judge guy cleared his throat pompously, looked down his nose at the people gathered before him, and asked, "So...what's up?"
His Majesty rose to his feet and pointed dramatically at Al. "I, as the accuser, am now accusing the accused, AKA Al, of..."
At this point, the royal guy paused, as if it were difficult for him to go on. The judge raised one eyebrow at his royal guy, which would have been a no-no under normal circumstances (the royal guy outranking him and all that), but this was court, dammit, and the judge is in charge!!
His Highness drew a great breath, and then snarled, "I accuse him of laughing at my FACE!" With that, he made a great attempt to furrow his brow, but instead, just twisted his expression
even further. The judge covered his mouth and started coughing, the sound vaguely resembling a snicker.
His face reddening, he turned towards the accused who was still in the little.... box-like thing... at the front of the room...
"And," the judge started, coughing between each word as he attempted to regain his composure, "how do you plea?"
Al sniffled a bit, looking up at the judge with big, watery puppy-dog eyes. "I didn't mean it..."
"THAT MEAN HE ADMITS IT! HE'S GUILTY!" the king/prince/duke of burgundy/holy spitting ninja/earl/royal guy said, his expression
contorting a bit further and not at all giving the desired effect.
"And why am I doing the prosecution!?" he growled, snapping his head to the side, and looking down at his temporarily lawyer-esque employee who was lazily slouching in his chair, a crayon held between his lips.
The crayon-smoker replied, "Meh" and continued to enjoy his blue-violet crayon.
The royal guy facepalmed.
Al pleadingly looked to His Majesty. "B-but...but I make really good toast..."
The judge turned to the royal guy, carefully struggling to keep a straight face. After all, it would be rude to not make eye contact with His Majesty, but it was even more difficult to avoid laughing while maintaining eye contact...a dilemma, indeed. "Al raises a very good point in his defense, Your Majesty."
"The fact that he makes very good toast does not exempt him from the law," His Majesty insisted, firmly planting his hands upon his hips.
"Zane," the royal trelf turned to his attorney person, "quote the sentence of the passage of the article of the Trelven Constitution where that is written!"
"...don't laugh at His Highness's appalling face except on Tuesdays when the planets are aligned at midnight..." he droned in monotone, making stuff up as he went and all the while smoking his crayon.
"But...ah, Your Majesty," the judge said, prompted by Al's puppy-dog eyes, "he makes *really* good toast."
"THAT IS NOT THE POINT!" His Majesty yelled, jumping on top of his desk...thing. "That is irrelevant information!"
"But what will we do for toast if Al is executed?" the judge argued. Wait...isn't the defense attorney supposed to be saying this? Oh well. i guess the judge just really likes toast.
"OBJECTION!!" His Majesty pointed dramatically at the judge, which would have been all well and good, except...well...
...It didn't work too well with his face.
As a matter of fact, it looked something like this
Upon seeing this, the Judge started to cough harder, the corners of his stern mouth twitching. "We... we must a-adjourn for 15... no, 30 minut-t-tes..." he closed his eyes, biting his knuckle, and wheezed. When he finally had enough willpower, the judge boomed, "GET OUT OF THE COURTROOM." And everyone complied.
As the last trelf exited the courtroom and the doors swung shut, they could hear, with their wonderfully pointy elf ears, the sound of hysterical laughter from behind them.
That hysterical laughter continued non-stop for the next 30 minutes.
Surprisingly, when the group re-entered the room, the Judge was still alive, as that much laughter cannot be good for you.
Not for long, if the look on His Majesty's face was any indication. Wait...
It was the same face.
Just slightly more murderous.
The royal guy crossed his arms angrily and said, "ZANE. Fetch me my (insert weapon of choice here)."
Zane blinked lazily, took a long drag on his crayon, and then muttered something about "maybe later"
His Majesty threw his hands up in frustration, then said, "AL. The judge insulted your toast."
Al stiffened and tilted his head to the side, looking at the judge. "But... he just said I made *really* good toast..."
"He was lying!" His Majesty said dramatically. Unfortunately, the judge was still busy trying to stifle his urge to laugh and could not object to that claim.
"YOU LIED TO ME?!" Al fell to his knees and tears started to streak his cheeks. "You... you lied... about... my..." The trelf's eyes suddenly flashed with vivid anger, "MY TOAST MAKING ABILITIES?!"
The judge felt a chill run down his spine. "W-what? Wait a moment, I didn't! I said your toast was *really* good!"
His Majesty coughed. "He LIES."
Then, to drive the last nail into the coffin, the royal guy added, "He doesn't like toast. He likes *waffles*."
And with that, the Judge was dead, and the trial was over. Yay.
Oh, and Al was very messy with blood and stuff, so he went to go take a bubble bath.
Because it was Wednesday!
:D
Yes! :D
Unfortunately, His Majesty was still feeling rather depressed over the state of his face.
Even more so because he could not express his depression. It was very sad.
So the royal guy decided to take a stroll out in the garden.
Because flowers are pretty and they make you feel better!
Anyway, His Majesty was moseying along the lovely paths made from the crushed bones of their enemies when he noticed a suspicious lack of red roses on the red rose bushes. Intrigued by this odd occurrence, the royal guy followed the sound of snipping shears until he came upon his gardener Sjez, who was engaged in the task of cutting all the roses from the bushes.
His Highness blinked and simply watched for a good long while, until it finally hit him what was happening. And yet, he asked the idiot question, "what are you doing?"
The gardener trelf did not even look up from his work. "I'm cutting the roses from the bushes, Your Majesty."
"But... why?" he asked, apparently still in the mood for rather unintelligent questions, and all the while his bushes were swiftly losing their blossoms.
The gardener would have rolled his eyes had he had any pupils. "Because the red and green together makes it look like Christmas. And there's more green then red, obviously, so it takes less work to just get rid of all the roses then to get rid of all the leaves."
The gardener then pointed to the numerous baskets of roses on the ground beside him. "Also, I'm making lunch with those."
It should be noted here that Sjez was not the official gardener. In fact, his title was actually Sjez'lrin the head chef/weaponsmasterofficial-wax-seal-stamper/interrogator/diplomat/occasional lawn gnome/gardener/whatever-else-His-Majesty-needs-doing-at-the-moment-and-has-no-one-else-to-do-it. Because, as you know, the royal guy was kinda short on staff. As a result, Sjez had a tendency to maximize efficiency by combining his tasks. Which tended to produce some...odd results.
"Roses don't taste good," Zane muttered, who was lurking in the background, as that's what lackeys and secret service peoples do.
"Silence, humanoid. You will eat your lunch like real men do," Sjez replied blankly. His Majesty face-palmed yet again.
"Real men don't eat flowers..." Zane continued to mutter, leaning against nothing in particular while smoking his crayon.
Sjez opened his mouth to form some sort of retort, then vaguely decided it was too much trouble. "Well," he muttered, "I suppose I could always use them to decorate the castle the next time I'm on interior decorator duty..."
At that point in time, the scribe, a trelf by the name of Xoiwrje'rian, came hurrying up, a stack of scrolls in hand. Upon seeing his royal guy, the scribe bowed. "Your Majesty! I have formulated an amazingly awesome plan that needs your immediate attention!"
His Majesty turned to his scribe, and blinked at the large stack of scrolls. For, Xoiwrje'rian was a rather short trelf, and he honestly should have collapsed under the amount of paper he was carrying.
In fact...Xoiwrje'rian did.
The other three trelves stared blankly at the scribe, who was now pinned under his stack of scrolls. At length, Sjez finally said, "Jenny...what are you doing?"
Because the author is getting tired of copy+pasting Xoiwrje'rian, and his nickname shall now be Jenny.
It might make more sense for his nickname to be Jerry, but no, it just doesn't work that way.
Pfft. Jerry. Why would anyone want to be named Jerry?
...No offense to any of you who are actually named Jerry.
Jenny said something in reply to Sjez's question, but sadly, his face was planted upon the garden path, and he found himself with a mouthful of crushed bones.
A few minutes more staring commenced.
Alas, Jenny could not get up, nor ask for assistance as he could not be understood around the crushed bones.
At length, Sjez commented, "I think he needs help." His Majesty sniffed.
"I am a royal person. I do not 'help' people."
Both trelves turned to Zane.
The trelf pointed at his long ear with its blue tufts of fur, upon which was clipped a headset. "I'm a little busy listening to secret service stuff... you know, National Security? Ringinabell?" He rolled his eyes and commenced leaning against the nonexistent wall and smoking his crayon.
"You're the only one on my secret service staff!" His Highness said, face-palming yet again.
"Meh" Zane replied.
Luckily for Jenny, at that moment Al came wandering up, smelling like his Herbal Essences shampoo. Upon seeing the poor scribe writhing around on the path, Al gasped in a very girly way and quickly set about pulling the scrolls off of Jenny.
The other trelves watched with mild interest as the scrolls were pulled away and Jenny was then hoisted to his feet. Al gave the small scribe a pat on the back, and Jenny coughed up some crushed bones and dirt, grimacing and sticking his tongue out in distaste. Al ruffled Jenny's hair and offered him some minty breath spray.
Jenny raised an eyebrow. Because, unlike Al, and contrary to what his name and stature suggests, Jenny is actually quite the manly trelf.
Well, he thinks of himself as one, anyway.
"Thanks, Al," the scribe said, declining the breath spray and standing up straight before His Majesty once more, sans scrolls. "Your Majesty! As I was saying, I have an amazingly awesome plan!"
"What is this amazingly awesome plan?" the royal guy asked. "Does it involve lifting my curse and fixing my face? Does it involve figuring out how I was cursed in the first place?"
"No, not really," Jenny admitted, "But it's still amazingly awesome."
His Majesty looked slightly less enthusiastic about this, but said, "Okay, go on."
Jenny took a deep breath. "We should go conquer some nations!"
There was a rather awkward silence.
At length, His Majesty said, "Jenny...you do realize that we, being trelves, are a rarity in this world, like ligers, and there are not very many of us, and therefore, we do not have an army with which to conquer nations?"
"If my plan was as simple as using an army, do you really think that I would be carrying this many scrolls?" Jenny arched an eyebrow.
His Majesty pondered this question deeply for a few moments, then answered rather matter-of-factly, "Yes."
Zane and Sjez both nodded in agreement.
Al was busy being distracted by a pretty butterfly that fluttered by.
The scribe adjusted his glasses and glared in annoyance before fumbling around in the pile of scrolls.
"THIS is my plan, Your Majesty! We simply gather a few men, and ride to the nearest nation, with you leading the charge. As these people of the nation will not be accustomed to the sight of your visage
, they will be momentarily incapacitated. Or permanently incapacitated, for those of weak will. In any case, it will be a simple matter to capture their kingdom!" Jenny announced, unfurling a vast
piece of parchment.
His Highness did not know how to respond to this.
Jenny stared at the royal guy blankly. So did the other three.
At length, His Majesty's eye twitched slightly more than it was twitch already, and he said calmly, "So you plan on using my FACE in order to make people die from laughing so we can conquer nations."
"There's a possibility it may have such an effect..." Jenny muttered. "Your face does look pretty weird," Zane noted. Sjez took a step back and placed his hand to his chin, analyzing the royal trelf's appearance.
"How do you sleep?" Sjez finally asked, pointing at His Highness' face.
"AARRGH!!" His Highness screamed in a very manly fashion. Meanwhile, Al had just noticed the baskets of roses on the ground and was squealing in delight.
"Oh, they're so pretty!" the captain of the guard and official toast-maker cooed.
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