Brave New Worlds and Deep Under Perdido

[the_fantastic_ms_fox]

Dreams

Orange-red sunset sky. All of us in our styled-up, colour-coded coveralls and geneline haircuts. It's a Brave New World alright, but somehow less commercialist.

She asks me my geneline, I state "Alpha minus."

She says, "why so modest, you're an A(K) it's clear; the 'K' stands for artistic talent."


Back Alseep Later


In the forgotten (yet curiously lit) bottoms of the Old City, the Sheriff jostles his noisesome troops to lead an Elith along on snare poles.

Eight of them, plus the Sherrif? Two rear guard and Sherrif in front leads six of them to one Elith? What are these guys doing with an Elith? It's three tonnes of scales, claws and fangs. And the eyes.

They're gonna feed people to it, aren't they?

Fuck this.

Passing a holed wall, I drop my lead, and unsheathing my finger-claws, crawl up and into a cranny.

I am not missed. They proceed, raucous voices echoing.

I hear a great beast turn.

And.. slience.

Yup. They're fast too.

I can't let that things stay loose. Once they find water, they'll be able to liquid-phase; uncatchable.

Affixing the emergency spike to a pole, I slip in after it. Its back is turned, I think it's swallowing someone.

Streaking past the beast, not looking as I lance it over the eye - to no effect. But I do not stop and I do not look - up and away, my neat claws unfit to hunt, but perfect for finding purchase in old masonry.

Cold comfort. The beast knows I'm here. And it likes a challenge.

Around crumbling staircases, roofs long rotted to leave functionless pillars staring up at the bottoms of the New City. I am up three stories to look over what was once a bustling plaza. I can see it, but I do not look at its eyes - that's the most dangerous part.

That's how it got the Sheriff's troops.

We hunt and run in an unbalanced mutual predation. I could flee, but I can't leave this thing alive.

Or can I? How am I supposed to kill a three-tonne alligator with hypnotic eyes with an improvised spike-on-a-stick? Yeah, heck. I'm gonna die down here. Best to run then?

I would be away if his wife didn't show up. The females will talk, or at least mindcast. I don't know if the males can't or won't, but she's in my head, relaying how she savours the chase.

I am seriously screwed at this point. Dashing past, stabbing, climbing, my tufted ears slipping out from under my my wide-brimmed hat, beam-crawling, all in a city long forgotten by those above.

You can't win this, she casts.

I shout, "Remember those Slake Moths a few months back?"

I see an open rooftop out of her view, I'll sprint across here and... there's her mate. Shit.

Bullshit. You took out six slake moths?

"No. Rutgutter's men took out one. My team did the other five. Fire mostly."

I feel a the kind of respect one reserves for worthy prey.

She wants a special kill.

She is after me, but I give one final dash-and-slip and then

there are... fairies. Talking to her. Possibly drawn to the mindchatter.

And nonplussed by hypnotic eyes.

And I am away. Into the vast bulk of the old city,

there to find a way up, and maybe to warn everyone above

Most of my agile flight dreams are just about the fleeing. But here, I turned and fought. Why?