Forum Overview :: Cabaret Voltron

The Continuation by mrs. johnson 06/04/2003, 2:34am PDT Whip descends down the mountain with the speed of a falling goat. His mind fills with various possibilities. What can I do, he thinks, to drive the men out? I can threaten their daughters, I can haunt their homes. What if there are too many homes? I can steal their most prized possessions and embarrass their elder. I shall make their food uneatable, and their water undrinkable! They shall leave, or they shall perish. Whip’s feet barely touch the ground and he reaches the lower hills in minutes. As a minor god, his powers are limited to his persona. He can create mischief, but not directly harm anyone. He can hypnotize any man and seduce any woman. Throughout the years, his powers have changed and he does not know what he may now do. His eyes gleam with specks of rust and his fingernails are dirty. Suddenly, he arrives at the village. But, it is not quite a village. It is like twenty villages. There are lights brighter than any that Whip had ever seen and a throng of people weaving past metal carriages. Things are not as they once were. Suppressing his anger, Whip walks along the street, until the smell of wine draws his attention. He walks into a darkened room stuffed with people, and orders ale. The bartender frowns slightly, and pulls out a bottle. It is sealed with something metal, and after a few tries with his hands, Whip removes the seal with his teeth. He tastes the content of the bottle and smiles, surprised. He looks around and starts to closely listen to the goings on around him. Music is playing, but it is faster than anything he can remember. Only youths surround him, and they give him strange looks. While he wears a loose robe, they were tight fitting clothing. They dance suggestively, and Whip eyes some of the young women. One sits down next to him and orders something from the bartender. He signals for her to wait and she sits down. She looks at whip and asks, “What are you doing here, you old man?” Whip laughs at her words. He looks into her eyes and at once she is his. “That’s a good question. Why don’t I get out of here, and you come with me?” She only nods in response. Whip leads the way through the throng, and he and his companion walk down the street. “Where is your leader?” He asks. “Leader?” She replies lustfully, eyeing Whip up and down, almost tripping in the process. “Come on now. The man who is in charge. The elder, the sage. Keep your eyes on the ground, we will get to that later.” “Oh. You mean the mayor. He’s at city hall.” “Where is that?” She gives him directions, but he does not understand. She describes how to get there in purely relative terms, and Whip nods. “Now,” he says, “let’s find a quiet corner where I will show you what an old man like me can do.” She leads him to a park, and they lie down behind a tree. He proceeds to strip her and himself. He then smoothly joins himself to her and motions her to be silent. After some time, she is left to sleep with a stain on her belly. Whip smacks his lips in satisfaction and walks over to where city hall is. After arriving there, he tries to find a way in. All the doors are closed, and the windows are solidly secured. Whip once again approaches the front door and discovers that it is within his power to open this door which has one of every number on the front of it. He wanders around in the darkened hallways looking for ceremonial gear to steal or artifacts to deface with his urine, but finds none. The rooms are filled with furniture and paper. He decides that the best he can do is bring all the papers to one room and set them aflame. They must be important if they are kept in the home of the elder. He certainly does live in a large house, thinks Whip. After hauling all the paper to the main hallway, he creates a flame in his palm and drops it onto the pile. It quickly sets aflame and a great noise begins. Water begins to pour out of the ceiling, but the fire is far too out of control. Whip begins to dance to the howling noise, laughing wildly, as the flames begin to spread from the papers to the rest of the walls. He hears noises outside, and walks out to the front door. There, he spots very large, red metal carriages. Men in red suits are swarming towards the building. Whip giggles at their hats and walks out the front door. Men instantly surround him and ask him all sorts of foolish questions. He hypnotizes them all, and walks off, the sky aglow behind him. He wanders back towards the mountain, and climbs to the top, satisfied. He walks up to the fire where Cream and I still sit, plops onto the ground and quickly takes a large gulp out of the jug. “I don’t think the men will stay much longer down there. I have set the house of the elder on fire. It burns as we speak.” Whip looks around in a self satisfying manner. Cream speaks, “Will this really make them leave?” I responds, “No. These are not the men that we know. They shall think it an accident, they shall rebuild and stay.” Whip scoffs and says, “How can that be? The men in red suits saw me. They shall report that I was there. Surely, someone will recognize my description and know that the gods are furious. They shall leave.” “Let us hope that they do. If they do not, it is only a matter of time before they shall find us.” I picks up a flute and begins to play it. The light of dawn gives the fire the illusion of having the color of pale sapphires. the mrs.

Not really a story or anything, but... by mrs. johnson 06/03/2003, 8:10pm PDT     aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! *splat* NT by a single tear 06/03/2003, 10:17pm PDT         Is that positive or negative? NT by mrs. johnson 06/04/2003, 1:28am PDT     The Continuation by mrs. johnson 06/04/2003, 2:34am PDT     I liked that one more than all the others by Entropy Stew 06/05/2003, 9:58am PDT         Ã½up NT by foogla 06/05/2003, 11:58am PDT         I am a faggot :( NT by foogla 06/05/2003, 11:59am PDT