AN: This is a series of crack scenarios abusing the characters of Schemilix, a wonderful writer who will be published someday. .com - she is awesome. Love her. Anyway, quick char profiles; Gustav=King of Verinn, Campbell=his advisor/friend, Rage=Captain of the Tidebreaker, Fawkes=Navigator of the Tidebreaker, Ketsu=Creepy little kid, Austas=Ambassador of Hinter Holstein, Hound=Captain of the Watch (vigilantes), Russet=his BOYFRIEN- er, member of the Watch (no, not canon bf, but I'm working on it) and the best sharpshooter the world has ever seen, Greywing=Watchman (sole female member), Talonhawk=Watchman, Tolrin=God of the dark, often referred to as the Iron God, Lyeara=Goddess of Light. I think that's about it for chars in this chapter, but Greywing and Talonhawk aren't here yet. Anything else you wanna know, ask me or go read the original story on Schem's dA page! Trust me, it's worth it, even if it isn't finished yet.
The EverSane Chronicles
Captain Rage stood on the burning deck, whence all but he had fled- scratch that, he just stood on the bloody deck. He turned away from the beautiful sunset he'd been watching (shut up; he's a man, he can take your namby pamby comments) and glanced down, eyes widening as he stared blankly. He wasn't wearing any trousers. ON A NAVAL BATTLESHIP. God, this was embarrassing. He quickly glanced around to see… no one. Thankfully. No one to see his humiliating mistake. He quickly bent over (as most people would do, for some reason; doesn't hide anything…) and scurried towards the opening leading to the cabins. However, before he got there, Fawkes, his beloved navigator (note extreme sarcasm) stepped out and blocked the door.
"Fawkes! Get me my pants!" he cried desperately, glancing from right to left rapidly, afraid someone might catch him 'underwears'.
"You wanna have babies?" Fawkes looked thoroughly nonplussed. Rage gave him a look of 'wtf?' and repeated.
"No, I want my pants."
"But… You can't have babies!" the navigator was now sounding ridiculously incredulous. Rage blinked.
"I want my bloody pants!" He practically screamed.
"I'm not oppressing you, Stan, you haven't got a womb!" Rage stared unabashedly at his shipmate, almost forgetting why he wanted to get inside in the first place.
"What?" he frowned, taken aback. Why was Fawkes acting so… strange? I mean, he was an odd fish normally, but this was just plain weird.
"Where's the foetus gonna gestate, you gonna keep it in a box?" Fawkes was now looking almost… pleased with himself.
"I'll put you in a box. Give me my bloody pants." Rage threatened, frowning in confusion. The navigator blinked a few times before nodding.
"Aye-aye, Cap'n." then he scurried back indoors, almost bumping into another sailor on the way.
"What did the captain want?" he whispered.
"Wrong time of the month; she wants her 'bloody pants'." Fawkes mumbled back, staggering away, leaving yet another confused sailor in his wake.
The Man with a Thousand Faces
The mysterious gunman made his way down from the mezzanine, slightly hunched over, as if he had something to hide, which he obviously did.
"Remove your mask, charlatan." Ketsu commanded on impulse. The foxy man swivelled his head to glance at him and the dark-haired boy distinctly got the impression that he was being grinned at mischievously. The tall man reached up and lifted off his mask, revealing a frankly, quite ordinary face.
"Oh man, you're gonna love this." He smirked and reached up to his hairline. Ketsu stared in amazement, the rest of the room's jaws audibly hitting the floor as the man revealed a discreet zip that ran down his face and, evidently, the length of his entire body. He slowly pulled it down, what had appeared to be his skin falling limp and losing its shape. Then, into the stunned silence, dropped a familiar chuckle. Ketsu's blood ran even colder when he heard it and everyone froze. Out of the gunman's assumed skin, stepped… Ketsu. The dark haired boy looked up demurely, fluttering his eyelashes a little. "Told you you'd love it." Ketsu's eyes bulged and he took a step forwards, trembling slightly.
"Correction. You mean you." His reflection smirked and pointed arrogantly at him.
"You… You… IMPOSTER!" he screeched, for once losing his calm completely. Everyone else in the room took a step back, several pairs of eyes widening in fear.
"You're the imposter, Ketsueki lookalike." The other boy spat, suddenly turning from highly amused to viciously angry within a second. Seemingly, he shared Ketsu's emo mood swings.
"You… you BASTARD!" the pair yelled in unison. "Someone please shoot him."
"Oh God I can't tell you how long I've waited to hear those words." Austas murmured. Rage fluttered his eyelashes at him in a thoroughly unnerving way.
"Wow, seems we have something in common." They grinned ferally, each revealing a pistol. Both Ketsus suddenly looked fearful rather than shocked, amused or angry.
"No, wait-BANG!" The dark haired boys immediately collapsed. Suddenly a loud, echoing voice thundered throughout the hall and everyone turned to stare at Gustav, the king, who was sitting astride Campbell's shoulders and wielding an enormous…
"NOW IF YOU ARE ALL QUITE FINISHED WITH MOLESTING THOSE BOYS, I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE! YES, I, GUSTAV FRANKLIN, KING OF VERRIN AND PINK PRAWNWORLD, AM IN FACT A GAY ANGEL!" One of the sailors had the audacity to blink and was immediately shot by Campbell, who was somehow able to support the weight of that megaphone added to his king. "With Tolrin. So there!" As everyone's religious base crumbled before them, Campbell tilted his head up towards his (no longer secret) lover and murmured.
"Well at least Ketsu can't rape me anymore."
Ketsu turned to Rage and, with wide, innocent eyes, informed him; "My mummy says I'm a good boy."
Oh, He's So Cold
Once, when Gustav was very small (and Campbell was still the same age – he was born that way; his mother was rather confused when a fully-grown man appeared from her womb with no abnormal effects) he turned to Campbell, wearing a bright purple paper crown and holding a pea shooter, and asked,
"Will you marry me?" The young man simply blinked.
"Stavvie, you're gonna be king someday. You can't marry someone not of royal birth. Nor am I going to turn myself into a paedophile by replying 'yes'. I'm afraid I won't, your Highness." And with that, he straightened again, staring off into the distance as he was wont to do. Gustav eyed his peashooter for a moment and very calmly shot his attendant, before returning to forcing his toy soldiers to enact unspeakable things upon one another.
Gustav's Identity Crisis (aka: THAT'S NOT A PENIS, YOU FOOL!)
Austas made his way down the length of the hallway and paused when he saw Gustav doing something… incredibly odd. He backpedalled a little (yes, he has a unicycle – a must have accessory for every King and Ambassador; while stocks last at Mikey's Junk Sale) and stared through the doorway at the king. Gustav Franklin, Murderous bastard of murderous bastards, was looking down at his… evidently unflat chest and absently poking at his- er, her, breasts.
"Oh my God, Gustav, you have breasts!" Austas exclaimed, pointing in shock.
"Ah, pervert!" The king- ahem, queen, squealed, leaping to cover herself.
"So… uh… You're a girl now?" The large ambassador scratched the back of his head bemusedly, moving his feet a little to sustain his current state of uprightness.
"Always have been." Gustav said primly, sticking her nose up in the air.
"Um… so… er… What's your girl name?"
"Gustav. My parents were very hopeful. Thought the umbilical cord was a penis." The frail lady shook her head, now wearing a long silver silk dressing gown.
"Oh… right…" Austas blinked; he shook his head. Things around here were getting weirder every day. With a small wave, he turned his unicycle about and continued trundling his way down the hall.
Gustav's Identity Crisis Continued (aka: Trash)
Austas pedalled slowly back and forth down the hall, taking pride in the fact that he had at last mastered the use of his fairly small unicycle. But he wanted more; to be able to use one of those magnificent unicycles, taller than a man; oh, to tower above people, not only metaphorically and figuratively, but literally too. He'd never felt that life as an ambassador was for him. All his life he'd wanted to do something fun. Like be a clown. Or interesting. Like being a clown. Or unexpected for someone of his social status. Like be a clown.
However, he mused; this tiny unicycle would get him nowhere. It was time to hunt down one of the more challenging ones. And with that, he leaped off of his current toy and tossed it down a handy, seemingly empty corridor. As he walked away, there was a loud crash joined by a cat screeching.
Was that a rabbit?
"Campbell." Gustav stated sternly.
"Yes, Gus?" said man looked up.
"Stav, please." Gustav corrected him.
"Right y'are. What did you require me for?"
"Was that a rabbit that just flew past the window?" Gustav asked.
"Oh yes, probably, sir. They get up to all sorts of mischief, you know." Campbell replied sagely, before turning to return to his work (making toy penguins on wheels for underprivileged old people).
"A rabbit. All the way up here?" Gustav emphasised, just to be clear.
"Yes, I should think so, sir – they do jump rather high, I've noticed."
"On the top floor of the castle?" Gustav insisted.
"Oh yes, sir." Campbell nodded once more, now completely uncertain as to where this was leading.
"Cat, I'm a kitty cat, and I meow, meow, meow and I meow, meow, meow." Ketsueki sang as he danced on the deck.
"That boy has problems." Rage commented before disappearing below deck.
God I Love Tech(nology)
Rage stretched and yawned; waking up on board ship was far pleasanter than on land, he thought. Running a hand through his hair, he strode up onto the deck (Yes, he walked through the air straight up through the ceiling; no pansy walking horizontally for him). Once there, his jaw dropped.
"Fawkes, what are you doing?" He demanded. The navigator was sitting with a miniature steam engine (which was not only illegal but utterly pointless) and polishing it with a vacuous smile on his face, humming quietly. "Fawkes! What! Are! You! Doing?!" Rage repeated.
"Making it pretty…" the navigator replied dreamily.
"Get rid of it! We're out to hunt down Tech, not prettify it!" Rage fumed.
"But… but…" Fawkes' eyes filled with tears. "She's… so beautiful…"
"It's Tech, Fawkes; it doesn't have a gender." Rage said tersely.
"She's called Anna Maria! You can't force me to part with her, you can't, you can't, you can't!" With that, Fawkes grabbed up dearest Anna and leapt over the side with her. Rage sighed and rubbed his eyes. What a start to a day… And now he'd have to find a new navigator. Bloody nutter.
Reggae Reggae Sauce
"Hey, Reggae!" Ketsu shouted from the crow's nest. No one looked up. "Bloody moron…" he muttered. "Reggae! Oi, Reggae! Captain Arsehat!" Rage glared up at him.
"Do not call me an asshat." He scowled ferociously.
"Alright, alright." Ketsu called down, rolling his eyes. "So, Reggae, when are we landing?"
"One, I'm RAGE, not REGGAE!" Rage yelled. "And two, this ain't a bloody plane! We're docking in three days, you little idiot!"
"Ok, three days." Then Ketsu turned back to watching the horizon swirl prettily (pot does have its aesthetic uses, after all). Then he began to sing quite loudly, "Reggae, Reggae sauce!"
"I'll show you sauce!"
"Is that a promise?"
"Argh, just shut up!"
Hound rubbed his forehead, grumbling irritatedly under his breath as he limped into HQ. Some bloody moronic angel had been sent to find him, but had ended up getting… waylaid by Josef Franklin. Well, more like simply 'laid'. Stupid gay angels and their weirdass tastes. He shoved open the door to the 'Fire Room' as Russet called it, only to find that selfsame trigger-happy Russian sitting sprawled in one of the armchairs, wearing only a devilish grin and a stripper hat.
"Hello Captain." Suddenly Hound's day got a whole lot better.
"S-T-A-R…" Rage heard a familiar voice chanting and opened the door to his cabin to see… "S-T-A-R, what?" Ketsu was dancing… rather… risquely to a song he was listening to on some strange device attached to his head. "S-T-A-R…"
"Ketsu, what are you doing this time?" Rage asked wearily.
"Queen bitch…" The boy's voice dropped to a whisper.
"What did you call me?"
"What are you doing?" Rage demanded. The dark-haired boy resolutely ignored him.
"I'm on the top, there's no luck, never turn around and stop- HOLY SHI- GET OUT!" Ketsu shrieked, spinning around to see Rage staring at him. "What in the name of my pretty pink panties are you doing in here?!" Rage blinked, his mind utterly blank.
"Never mind, just go, Reggae!" Rage shook his head and glared.
"Enough with the 'Reggae' thing already!"
"Then stop perving on me while I'm-"
"No! Just get out!" Rage sighed and left, now even more resolutely convinced that that boy had Problems, with a capital 'P'.
Taking a trip
Gustav tripped over his own feet.
Starry Gazy Pie
"Where's my Gustav pie?!" Austas demanded. Campbell rolled his eyes.
"It's not ready yet; he put up a bit of a fight before we could put him in there. Besides, you've already eaten Tolrin, Lyeara, a large jam and my right foot." He spoke whilst leaning heavily on a crutch that the ambassador was already eyeing hungrily.
"Yes, but I'm hungryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy…" Austas pouted down from his seven-foot-tall unicycle.
AN: And so concludes the first episode of the EverSane Chronicles; what goes on behind the scenes of that marvellous piece of literature, the Evertrail? Hope you enjoyed. If not, then… Austas will eat you too. Yeah. You should be scared.