Kevin the Bored
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185 More Pets! More Pets!
🕑 Added 2023-09-24 00:26:20 +0000 UTCNorthern Border of Namibia, January 20th, 17:35.
Wandering through empty deserts is a strangely enjoyable thing.
Some nice scenery, or at least it makes a change from the towering cities of the world. It makes a good place to think. Nice and quiet, peaceful.
My god am I getting bored.
Granted, it's not all bad. For one, the wildlife is adorable.
Case in point, I found a couple of leopards fighting not long back and decided to intervene, and now I have two adorable little cats following me around.
I think they see me as some authority figure, kind of like the whole alpha thing except I'm pretty sure that leopards don't have the alpha thing in their genes since they're solitary creatures.
Rather, I think it's more like respect for a superior predator.
After all, I did pick them both up by the backs of their necks to get them to stop fighting, effectively treating them like children in animal, then I gave them some meat to eat once they'd calmed down and now we're best buddies.
I've decided to name the one with a small scar on the left of it's face James, and the other one Riley, even though they're both males, because they. Are. Just. Adorable!
But no matter how much fun playing with them is, which, by the way, is incredibly fun, because I'm not doing the boring pet owner type of playing where you just throw a stick or something.
Nah, I've been going full Tarzan and wrestling and play-fighting with these suckers. Even two one one they didn't stand a chance. I'm not even mad about being covered in dirt.
But I think they're getting tired and I don't want to stop moving. Luckily for me, right as I'm starting to consider just carrying them both, I espy something upon the horizon.
A big ol' dust cloud raising into the air and growing bigger, or rather, closer.
Finally.
The horizon is about three miles away, so they'll probably be here in a couple of minutes tops.
With that in mind, I stop walking, my new friends turning back to me after a step and coming back, rubbing their bodies on me as I hug and stroke them back.
"You guys really are the cutest.~ I'm definitely taking you home.~"
As predicted, it only takes a couple of minutes before a band of four technicals are approaching us, each with a few guys sitting on the car's open windows instead of the seats and with a guy standing in the back with his hands on a mounted machine gun.
As they come to a stop forming a semi-circle in front of me, I give both of my new cats a pat on the back to get them to sit either side of me, and I feel pretty fucking cool with my hands rested casually on their heads even as all the big guns are pointed at us and the men start screaming at me in Afrikaans.
And it just so happens that Afrikaans is a language I speak, what a coincidence, but despite that, I still can't understand them because they are all just shouting over each other and waving AKs at me as if I give a fuck.
Obviously they could kill my cats, but I'm ready to protect them, and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't try to do it a second time.
"One at a time folks!~" I yell out over their din, and my Afrikaans clearly surprises them for a moment, however they do thankfully stop shouting over each other.
"You speak our language, American?" One of them, presumably the leader, asks, correctly assuming my nationality, which is fair enough really. I'm wearing a fanny pack and I dyed my hair forest green, to spice things up a little.
Giving him a smile, still unfazed by the guns, something that they've started to notice if the slight unease I smell is anything to go by, I give his question a simple answer. "Quite well, yes."
I notice some of them giving each other subtle glances, as well as some less than subtle glances. I suppose it makes sense, Africa has always had a problem with Warlords popping up, but with the advent of superpowers it's reached a whole new level.
Every Warlord worth the title is a parahuman, and I assume this means that these numskulls know what parahumans are capable of, as well as the fact that a lone whit woman walking around the desert with a pair of leopards might just be more than meets the eye.
And what's meeting the eye is already a lot.
"What are you doing here American?"
"Oh you know, enjoying the sights, walking the cats, the usual,~" I answer with a bland shrug, visibly annoying the guys pointing guns at me, but before they can retort I snap my fingers like I just had a fantastic realisation, "oh wait! There was something else!~ Say, would any of you happen to know where a 'Moord Nag' lives would you? I've been trying to reach her about her car's extended warranty.~"
The men in front of me almost flinch just at the mention of the name, which sucks because I think it made them miss my joke. I don't even know what a warranty is. I assume it's just another government scam. Kind of like having to pay for parking.
"Who are you! Why are you looking for Her?!" Leader guy asks after a moment of arguing with the guy next to him, leaving me momentarily pleasantly surprised.
Right. These guys probably don't read the news much, so nobody here's likely to even recognise me.
That's pretty cool. If there's one thing wandering in the desert has allowed me to realise, it's that I'm getting bored again. Fighting just for the sake of fighting is boring. Even with people as impressive as Q, I just don't have any desire to waltz back on over to him and pick another fight.
It just feels kind of pointless. I know I'm already on holiday, but I should take a vacation at some point, stop being 'Tear' for a bit.
Shaking the thoughts from my head I give the guy another smile, answering with complete honesty. "Well, I was visiting Ash Beast, but he turned out to be quite the disappointment so I killed him, then I figured I'd visit the second most interesting person in Afrika, to see if she would let me take a selfie.~ The other guy nearly broke my camera.~"
The reaction to my words is immediate as some of them turn their weapons to me with renewed focus while others actually lay down their arms, looking at me with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"Bullshit! The Ash does not die!" One of the younger ones shouts out with surprising fervour since Ash Beast hardly ever went this far south, generally sticking to the deserts.
"Apparently that's not the case,~ though to be honest, I'd argue that he was already dead when I found him. Seriously the guy couldn't speak and I'm pretty sure he couldn't understand me either. But then again, I suppose if you're passenger is being such a dick to put you in a position of continuous spontaneous combustion, then you're probably not going to be in the best mental state."
I'm not exaggerating either, the dude was a walking nuclear explosion, except more like three nukes every second and without all the radiation. Took me almost a whole day just to get used to the explosions enough that I could actually reach the centre, and even then, the dude was constantly exploding.
He'd reform into different shapes too, sometimes with wings and claws or horns and tails. All sorts of stuff. Made me think of phoenixes, rising from the ashes and all that.
Was a pain in the ass to kill too, but whatever, I managed, and now I'm here and I really do want that selfie. It can join all the other ones on my fridge back in Staten Island.
"You speak lies! Even the green American could not end The Ash!" The same rash, young man as before shouts out as he realigns his mounted gun with my head.
"In fairness to him, I don't think Eidolon has actually ever tried to end ol' Ashy."
He didn't seem to much like that fun fact.
"Lukas no!" The leader guy hurriedly shouts outs out, raising his arm as if to reach for the boy, but little Lukas does not listen to him.
The sound of gunfire fills the area like a thousand thundercracks, kicking up a small cloud of duster over the bodies of me and my cats, and the sound only stops once the others have wrestled him away from the gun, following which silence ensues.
While the dust is still covering us, I quickly bring my blood back into my body from where I used it as a shield, depositing all of the bullets in my right hand as the other placates my cats, who clearly didn't appreciate the noise.
None of the bullets are even dented, as I made sure to keep the barrier semi-liquid instead of completely solid, which means that by the time the dust lowers enough to leave us visible, the men are all greeted with the sight of me and my cats in the same spot, completely unharmed.
Being the kind and generous person that I am, I hold the hand full of bullets out to the kid who shot them, my same smile in place and my eyes perfectly green. "I think you dropped these.~"
Needless to say, they opted to stop asking questions and bring me to Moord Nag like I asked.
Really, it would save a lot of trouble if people just did what I asked them to do the first time, but who am I to complain about finally not having to walk anymore.
They were even 'kind' enough to vacate one of the trucks completely, bar the driver, allowing me and my cats to have plenty of free space to stretch. How nice of them.
Thankfully, it takes less than an hour by car for us to arrive at my destination. That being a small settlement set up next to an oasis.
I already heard the... soldiers? Mercenaries? You call gangsters gangsters because they are in a gang, but what do you call people who are under a Warlord? Insurrectionists?
Whatever they are called, I already heard them radio ahead, so I'm not surprised in the least when we are greeted by a half circle of trucks set up a short distance from the settlement like a barricade and filled with fully armed men and woman, with the distinct scent of parahuman coming from four of them.
I can see the logic. They assume I'm a parahuman, which is obvious enough that saying 'assume' is probably misleading, but they are still only assuming my level of power, though they made the correct judgement of meeting me away from their home base just in case a fight breaks out.
Collateral damage is bound to become a lot more significant when literally everything you own is stored in the same place, that also happens to be the only water source nearby.
Not that it should really matter, because I don't feel like fighting and I honestly doubt that they're even strong enough to force me to fight like I could with Q.
Now, whether violence will be used is another matter entirely.
The truck pulls to a stop before the line and the driver wastes no time getting out and speed-walking away.
A twitch of the lips is the only proof of my amusement as I hop out of the truck myself, flanked by my lovely and cute little kitties. I think I really am an animal person. Well, I say that but what's really the difference?
People have brains, I guess. The whole reason people want pets in the first place is to feel superior and take joy in the simple mind of a stupid animal that doesn't know any better than to love unconditionally.
I shake the pointless thoughts from my head as I come to a stop before the line of guns and rocket launches, my cats sitting regally either side of me without any instruction this time, and I rest my hands on their heads as I patiently wait.
Patience that is rewarded as a woman comes walking through a gap in the centre of the line, with another pair flanking her. A part of me is curious if she was going to bring them anyway or if it's just because I have 'aides' of my own.
The woman looks to be in her late twenties, as black as everyone else here that isn't me and with long braids that go halfway down her back. She's not wearing a costume of any kind, which would really upset the sensibilities of the average American back home, but I guess African Warlords and their bands don't live by the same culture as America does.
How shocking.~
Instead of a costume, she's just wearing a simple black T-shirt that has had the sleeves ripped off, taking the 'T' out of T-shirt, as well as the bottom half of the shirt ripped off, taking the shirt out of T-shirt. So really she's wearing a scuffed crop-top, with a similarly simple skirt that reaches her ankles and is also flayed at the edges.
Oh, one more thing. She also happens to have a giant fuck-off shadow monster thing wrapped around her.
Well, it's mostly shadow monster. It does have an alligator's skull for a head. If alligator skulls were the size of a car. It's a good thing it's big though, considering that Moord Nag is riding it like a fucking sled, presumably using the holes in the back of its skull as footholds.
Honestly, it reminds me of Cerberus a little, just less 'nightmare monster' and more 'under-the-bed monster.'
The other two are less impressive and honestly I don't really care about them. It's a dude and a dudette, the dude has a lot of scars and the dudette looks like she's cut your dick off if you asked her to prom.
Neither are at all ready to rush in so they aren't Brutes or Movers. The surroundings is enough proof they aren't Tinkers, they aren't Strangers or Masters, else they wouldn't be here, or there would be minions or someone trying to fuck with my mind.
They're probably either a Blaster, Shaker or Breaker, but it doesn't even matter because they serve Moord, so they are weaker than her, and all she's got is a worse Cerberus.
My musings are cut off once the three, four if you count the nightmare monster, and Moord speaks up, her tone unafraid and honestly a little rude. "What do you want American."
Straightening my shoulders, I put on my best 'salesman' voice and do my best to avoid laughing and ruining the bit as I respond, speaking in English because I don't know what a car salesman sounds like in Afrikaans. "We've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty."
She didn't much like that one.
Her pet monster rises to it's full hight, Moord taking a step back to stay on the ground as it rises to the size of a mini-van, looking down on me with a baleful glare that I'm sure would have been quite intimidating to anyone else.
"My men say you speak our tongue yet you come here and dare speak to me in American?" Moord says, her voice scathing.
This is weird.
I never really thought about it before, but I really never expected that I'd actually be on the other end of racism. Kind of forgot that it's not only white people that can be racist for no reason. Or stupid reasons, I guess.
"Technically I spoke in English," I say, utterly failing to placate the irate woman and with a sigh, I take a step forward, spinning around at the same time to crouch down in front of my cats and bring their cheeks to my own as I hug them, speaking in a 'quiet' voice that they can obviously all hear, "she's so stern and intimidating.~ Do you think she's single and ready to mingle?~"
She didn't much like that one either.
I don't need to turn around to know that her pet monster comes rushing for my back. Even without my senses to alert me, the cats would be enough with how they recoil back, but I hold them in place, because they are so freakin' smooth and fluffy.
However, right before the monster's skull crashes into my back, blood blooms like a flower, four lines of blood in two pairs shooting out of my lower back just in time to catch the monster, the upper pair of appendages being longer and curved to reach the top half of the monster's skull with the lower two barely a foot long.
Predictably, at least for me, the monster is stopped immediately. I do feel it eroding away at my blood just from physical contact, but I heal faster than it hurts, so I don't care.
I wait for a moment, simply enjoying petting my cats before I lift my head up, looking around in confusion as if I completely missed what just happened, until I 'notice' the shadow beast behind me.
With a bashful smile, I lean slightly to the side to look past the beast and into Moord's eyes. "I'm sorry," I say in perfect Afrikaans, "but while I appreciate your advances, I've never been with a black person before and I hear that if you go black you never go back, but I actually have people waiting for me back home, so I can't take the chance.~"
She really didn't much like that one. Like, at all.
=================
A/N: He~llo! Dear readers!
I feel cringe for writing that Instagram story level trauma dump-ass paragraphs now, because I feel totally fine. I mean, I'm still pretty sure that there's a degree of burnout happening, but I think I was only feeling like that cuz I'm getting bored of the fighting and wanted to do something new.
So, should probably be fine unless I accidentally lock myself into another encounter without any skippable cutscenes or dialog.
The exact opposite of speedrun strats.
Also, Ash Beast. He was on the list, but then I reread his wiki and it turns out that his shard made him experience a type of ego-death, so he was basically a walking corpse. not very fun to write about so it happened in the background.
Also, might do a PHO chap next, feeling cute idk, might delete later, teehee.
.....what am I doing with my life?
Comments
Lucy Edwards
that does make me feel better ^-^
Scarletmenace
careful to not burn yourself out. But if it makes you feel better, these updates are what I often look forward to the most each day.
