A/N: Rated T because of Rubilax's foul mouth.
Disclaimer: I don't own Wakfu.
Sticks and Stone May Break My Bones
As a child, Tristepin always fancied himself as having a hard head. It was favorable by many iops that dreamed of becoming a warrior. Nothing—save his mother's "no"—kept him from pursuing that dream for various reasons like filling his head with unneeded nonsense that was books and arithmetic and other things she had learned while raised in the foreign feca kingdom—despite being an iop.
Unlike his mother, Tristepin's father encouraged his son to improve himself in any way possible, including hardening his head physically and emotionally. His father's favorite saying was "sticks and stones may break my bone, but words will never hurt me". He said it so often that the little iop would memorize it word for word despite a limited attention span that all little children have. And Tristepin found that such a weird saying helped.
A few of the feca kids that passed through town while exchanging goods would always call him any derivative of "idiot" they could think of, plus a few others that made little sense to an iop child focused on fighting with fists instead of words. Tristepin would respond with his dad's saying, as if it was a mantra to be used as a wooden sword used for deflecting and parrying other invisible weapons.
Of course, one of the four-eyes would respond with throwing a dictionary at him and the phrase: "the quill is mightier than the sword." Of course, Tristepin would prove them wrong with a good black eye. He would whistle happily as he strode away from the feca kids, too scared to fight a "barbaric iop".
Ha! He showed them!
Two years after meeting the strange figure named Goultard, Tristepin became absolutely ecstatic. Finally, he would show his mother that he could be an amazing knight—a Guardian of Shushus even!—and that he wouldn't need to know how to read complicated books or do complicated math problems. What was she expecting him to do? Feca magic? By Iop! He was an iop!
Her word rung in the air and clunked on his hard head.
"No? But Ma—I'm going to be trained as a real knight!"
"No." It clunked his head again, doing little to deter and much to enrage.
"Ma! What do you expect me to do with this? I'm a iop!"
His mother cast her son's soon-to-be master a glare and a scowl. "I won't have my son fall into our stupid and hard-headed culture."
"Well...that is what we're known for," admitted Goultard from his spot at the table.
"Yeah!" chipped in Tristepin with a mighty grin.
She turned away and back to her stew that she was making. Her husband finished chopping up the freshly gutted wodents. "You're only ten, Pinpin. Much to young to make decisions on—"
"Dear," Tristepin's father cut in with a soft smile, "Boys start choosing apprenticeships at his age. And it seems like Mister Goultard's sword chose our son."
His mother grunted. "My son is far from ready—"
At this point, Tristepin had had it. He flipped the heavy table, spilling the filled stew pot and all the mixingsonto the floor. Instead of scowling at his mother, he smiled wide with arms folded. And why should he have scowled? He made his mother surprised! See how he proved that his "culture" (whatever that was) was not barbaric! Surely, he would be allowed to go with Master Goultard!
He was sent to his room without supper.
The mixtures of "stupid antics" and "stupid culture" and "stupid iopness" flew in one ear and out the other all night. Somewhere, it had sunk into his brain.
Four years of training had long worn Tristepin's body out, but boy, did he enjoy every minute of it. His hands calloused through use of swinging swords, climbing mountains, and other hard labor. His muscle bulged and built with every passing week. His strength and endurance extended so that he could wield a bastard sword several feet too long with decent ease. Of course, his hard head became harder.
On the day he turned fourteen, Goultard had decided to give Tristepin the mysterious shushu sword that he had heard occasional snarky comments from, but his master would quickly silence them with a sharp eagerly took the sword in hand...
...but it was a dagger?
"Master, it's too short," he whined, holding it by the end of the handle and away from him.
"I would say the same for your own blade." The shushu chuckled, the eye-like gem turning up in glee at the young iop's confused face.
Goultard chuckled, taking the shushu weapon from his pupil. With a slight flick of the wrist, the sword changed shape from a tiny dagger to a broadsword. Tristepin's eyes went wide with wonder.
"Do it again!"
"Wow, amazed by everything, isn't he?" the shushu chuckled. "He'll faint once a chick fawns over him."
Goultard again chuckled before the blade shrunk. "Now, Rubilax, he's your new Guardian. Don't underestimate him."
Rubilax cackled. "Are you serious? It should be the other way around." The black iris focused on Tristepin in a sneer. "He really doesn't look like much when it comes to the looks department."
Tristepin scowled at the shushu's gem before taking it in hand. "Yeah, well, you don't look so good in the...uh..."
"Ah, smart too." Rubilax laughed. "Trust me, little pine tree, you wouldn't last a second against me. You probably can't fight your way out of a heavensbag." Tristepin growled, closing his grip on the handle. "Oh, oh, no, wait! You wouldn't be able to even figure out how to get into one in the first pla—"
A good thwack against the nearest rock quickly shut the dagger up. It shifted into various forms—a green broadsword, a stone-lava-looking broadsword, and a tiny dagger—each time screaming out "aie" and various profanities. And during this time, Goultard simply chuckled to himself before disappearing and leaving behind a note for the student and the new weapon.
"Find me, don't underestimate anybody."
Almost two months after his master's death, Tristepin took to the road. His first expedition on his own somehow ended up with a burned down village and a number of nasty insults and stones thrown his way. A few bounced off his hard head, and he continued on undeterred.
"Great job on the carnage," chortled Rubilax from his leather sheath.
"Sticks and stones," Tristepin hummed as he skipped along.
Rubilax chuckled to himself. "Aren't knight supposed to protect people?" he sneered. "Couldn't even keep yourself from tripping up. You're even worse than the time when I first saw you. Knew it too. Grand entrances. Trying to overcompensate for something?"
Tristepin raced to the nearest boulder he could find in the plains on the outskirts of Bonta City. After a good few bashes of blade against stone, the iop continued on his way, humming to himself as the trapped shushucursed the stupid iop. At the end of the day, Rubilax was the one cackling as a bwork disappeared down the road with all Tristepin's kama while the iop sat dazed, rubbing his head and trying to figure out how the trapped princess had turned into a bwork.
"Ha, what a hard-headed knight!"
Six months had passed since his initial departure from his master's tomb. His steps turned heavy and his humming long ago stopped. Night marched in long ago, but he had no kama to stay in an inn. For several days, he bounced along about it. Great, that means I get to fight rouges that decided to attack me~! By the time hunger and the last of his rations from a few peasants from a village attacked by plotters thanked him for his help—or, as Rubilax taunted, took pity on the poor dumbass—he had long lost his spark.
His stomach squealed and whined, making the iop mutter to his stomach that even it was against him. Rubilax, of course, continued his usual taunts.
"Ha! The fail-knight can't even get himself a woddent to eat! Girly man with all bark and no bite."
"I could say the same for you, demon," Tristepin muttered as he trudged along the road.
The demon squealed in glee. "Oh, that hurt! It seems we have a little more bite. That still doesn't get you a bite to eat. A dumbass like—"
Tristepin stopped. How dare his weapon continue on like this! He was the Guardian! The knight! The badass that rode in on a dragoturkey to save the day! He—self-dubbed Tristepin de Precedal—should be in charge of his shushu and get respect because of it.
Tristepin wrenched the dagger from its sheath and glared at the single eye of the shushu that dare talk back. "Shut up, Rubi. I'm your Guardian and—!"
"Oh, and that qualifies you for something, huh?" Rubilax narrowed his eye. "You're even a bigger dumbass than I thought. Pansy ass can't even—"
"Shut up!" The blade hit the soil, causing the shushu to shout profanities and insults.
Eventually, he wore himself out and continued on his way. On the outskirts of a village, Tristepincollapsed and fell asleep on the side of the road.
Somewhere between sleep and awake, he found himself roughed up and surrounded by rouges. Body sluggish from hunger and exhaustion, he could barely hold off a single punch by one of the cackling rouges—or was it his shushu?
"Hey, girly man, I can give them a wallop."
Tristepin, hard head groggy and desperate, accepted.
By some luck bestowed by Ecaflip, a mere child could pull the demon from Tristepin's head. However, upon looking at the kid, Tristepin rethought his first idea. The kid was a warrior, true of Iop's philosophy and a great companion.
Walking through the forests of Ankama, he kept his eyes and ears peeled for anything that could attack. After all, what was a Guardian, knight, iop, and hero, if not prepared? On the inside, he giggled. Oh, how cool he was! This kid and old-fart had to at least lead to some daring adventures, especially if plotterswere involved. They would have to eventually meet princesses and damsels-in-distress! And that would only be the beginning of his tales!
Upon seeing the kid's power, the iop couldn't help but have this idea ingrained in his mind.
"Yugo, do you see anything?" called old man Ruel.
Yugo popped up behind them and surprising the knight.
Tristepin rolled back, losing balance as he pulled out the dagger and turned it into a green broadsword before striking a defensive position.
Rubilax snickered. "Scared by a kid? What a disgrace!" Tristepin quickly quieted the shushu.
After continuing, the one thing Tristepin knew he would eventually hear beckoned to him.
A maiden's call bee...bea...calling for help! After striking a—much unneeded—badass pose, he dashed off, calling thanks to Iop for the great chance to be an amazing warrior. He raced through the underbrush, finding plotters attacking two damsels. Awesome! He rushed in, slicing and dicing until they ran away at his all-mighty heroic powers. Even greater? One of the lovely damsels—a blonde cra—fell into his arms!
Only if the old-fart didn't interrupt him from getting the kiss from the lovely cra Madam Evangelyne.
"—and this is the fearless Sir Tristepin—"
Tristepin flushed, the complement adding to his great accomplishments for the day—outside of being possessed by Rubilax.
Shortly after the ugly-princesses-in-the-castle incident, Rubilax taunted Tristepin about his "stupidity" once again. As Tristepin mumbled about not being able to talk with the beautiful princesses, theshushu only chortled.
"Oh, that's just cute. He thinks he can get it with some petty princesses, even."
"Get what?" inquired Yugo, looking back at the knight curiously.
Evangelyne sent him a piercing death-glare.
Tristepin made a silly giggle and quickly turned his attention away. "A kiss of course, Yugo."
"Oh, he wishes that it could even go that far," sneered the shushu.
The cra exhaled a sour breathe. "Iop-brain."
Tristepin's ears twitched, and he blinked. "Huh?"
"She called you an idiot," clarified Ruel.
It felt like a pebble cracked against his skull.
In boufball, it was almost a requirement to have a hard head. Tristepin wore his well.
"You don't wear a head, iop-brain," muttered Evangelyne.
In the city of Bonta, boufball was the greatest sport someone could ever play. Since it was a sport, it would be just like a battle. After all, some of the greatest games of Tristepin's village were for practicing battle abilities. Even as his teammates and Ruel's old friends explained it on the field during a timeout, it was just like a fight to the death! ...just with less death.
He concentrated his energy into his shield, blasting away the old ecaflip.
He laughed. "Cool. So, how many can I do?"
The ecaflip marched right back over after landing on his feet. "You only get one! And you just wasted it!"
Tristepin leaned back from the angry ecaflip, looking away. I'm an iop.
But, of course, the time would come for him to take back his chance! He was the hero of this story, after all. He found it, being a shield and blocking the opposite team as they charged in, stopping five seasoned players right in their path.
Well, it was better than nothing... He'd have another chance.
And he found it just after half-time. The team, several points behind, had began losing hope. But just like a hero, they would come back on top! Even Ruel believed it.
It was time that this iop entered the legend! He'd be the greatest boufballer in history. It was all riding on him and him alone. He easily blasted through his opponents, all eyes on him! The announcer shouting his actions in a play-by-play. This moment would be recorded in history forever! People screamed in approval! Shortly, they call his—
"—one of the most stupidest mistakes of the century! He scores against his own team!"
Tristepin looked at his teammates, all of them awestruck—but not by what he had originally thought was pointed his way.
"Iops have the strangest ways in proving their intellectual capabilities," the announcer cried over the mocking laughter that he thought he'd only hear from the damned shushu he left in his locker. It all hit his ego like a rain of pebbles, handfuls at a time.
"Still, I looked pretty cool."
But probably nothing as cool as letting Yugo, who fought hard to get the boufball from Kriss la Krasse, be the one who scored the point. Every hero needed a companion, just like they need a damsel to protect.
He awoke on the beach, shortly after a giant black mass attacked their ship in the middle of a freak mist. His head swam and vision slowly focused on the blue sky. Rubilax called for him to wake up. The little dagger floated on a plank, wading in and out with the tide. Eyes wide, the iop grabbed it from the board.
Of all the things that could happen! "You cursed demon! Trying to escape!"
Rubilax rolled his eyes. "Yeah. You caught me trying to escape, using my very capable fins." The bar that crossed where the sword and handle met wiggled.
"I that was a guard."
The giant pupil on the dagger rolled.
The knight looked up, noting the concern in the sadida's voice. Tristepin looked up, eager. Was there something the girl needed? He could possibly get a reward from Evangelyne if he did a really good job helping—
"It's Eva. She isn't breathing."
Tristepin's eyes went wide. He marched over to the two, Amalia and her helpless friend and his damsel. Eyes closed and head turned away, she looked just like the girl under a spell that he often fantasized rescuing.
"I will try a famous iop-cure," he announced, "'mouth-to-mouth'." He took a deep breath, just realizing that he would be kissing sweet Evangelyne!
Or a little kralahaine.
Rubilax snickered as the great knight's first kiss had been stolen by a jellyfish.
Minutes passed since the great black dragon sent them off to the highest reaches of the world, and the little band gained a new ally: a young dragon named Adamai. The dragon spoke in worried tones about the great black one they had left behind, banishing thoughts from Tristepin's hard head about challenging the great beast.
"So...how do you know Yugo?" Evangelyne asked once all were tucked inside Ruel's stinkyheavensack.
"We're brothers," Adamai explained. The the dragon's features contorted into confusion in response to everyone else's shock. "What? You guys never heard of people coming from a dofus?"
The knight folded his arms and plopped down on one of the cushions. A miraculous birth! Just like in many of the legends of great and tragic heroes. Yugo definitely made for a cool ally, dragon-brother and all. "It's pretty cool, just like I was born from a cabbage."
Everyone turned to him. Evangelyne giggled. Ruel gave him a sly smirk.
Tristepin furrowed his brows. Was it not miraculous enough for his legend?
Upon leaving for gathering wool for coats for his comrades—and especially Evangelyne!—he hummed to himself. Yugo would definitely make a great legend!
"A cabbage?" Rubilax asked as his Guardian marched through the snow. "You really are a dumbass."
"Sticks and stones, Rubi."
"Only a bwork girl would want to kiss a zero like him."
She had only meant that for "Prince Moron," Amalia's brother Prince Pig-breathe.
"...but you are definitely an iop-brain."
Still, he'd rather be an iop-brain to her than be a zero not even on her scale.
But only her iop-brain. The guards taunted him about his iopness and "lack of intelligence"; the only way to respond to such a challenge was to show them what his head was made of. They made the logical choice to follow through with their offer of combat.
"Who are the greatest warriors?" called the chief.
"The sadidas! The sadidas!"
They jived, similarly to the iop-greetings dances.
"Who are the smartest?"
"The sadidas! The sadidas!"
Tristepin smirked. "And who's going to get their butts kicked?"
"The sadidas! The sadid—" They lowered their hands.
Tristepin grinned as their faces contorted in rage. The knight discarded his dagger, before beckoning them. They all rushed at once. Dodging and redirecting and returning blows. All automatic. The iop roared in fits of laughter as he remembered his training with Master Goultard.
In minutes, he had them all in a pile, him on top and restraining the chief.
"Iop-brain! What are you doing?"
Tristepin let go of his restrained opponent and tossed him over both shoulders. He turned to the entrance to see Amalia and Evangelyne. His grin became wider. His damsel had come and would see him win! "Amalia! I love how your people welcome their guests!" he shouted.
"No, you moron!" screamed Evangelyne, "If the prince sees you, he'll—"
The green-faced prince strode into the stadium. Amalia spoke quickly to Armand, telling him that it was aniop game.
Bah! More than that!
The look in the sadida prince's eyes screamed a challenge and any one could tell that this guy's idea of a "friendly battle" would be just what an iop warrior would want. Oh, Tristepin could just taste the idea of defeating him. He was the big bad. The dragon that kept him away from the princess. What a victory that a knight would fight and defeat a prince.
He looked back, seeing the big "X" that Evangelyne made with her fingers and the sadida girl praying for him to say no.
Tristepin de Percedal was an iop, born and trained for any battle and challenge that came his way. But he was a knight first, and a knight's duty would be to listen to his princess.
"Eh...no, Senior." He looked down with a scowl at the unheroic exit he had decided on. "I'm feeling a bit tired. I think I'll go finish my soup."
There was a collective sigh.
"Well, that's a shame," said the big bad prince. "And here I thought iops were full of courtesy."
The iop blinked. Evangelyne had told him to treat the prince with courtesy. Even being partially illiterate,Tristepin could guess that it meant "accept whatever challenge thrown at you willingly". He grinned. "You want courtesy? Well, I'm your iop!"
"If you need a handle, I'm here," Rubilax called from his corner.
Tristepin grinned. He wouldn't need it. He got into a defensive stance.
Armand stood in place, relaxed and with a dragon-smirk on his face. He laughed. "What a hilarious stance." Waving a hand, he added with a serene determination, "How about we start with a warm up. You win if you touch me."
Tristepin gritted his teeth. He was the hero! He'd wip that smirks off the pig-breathe's face. He raced in, but vines wrapped around his feet and threw him off balance. Tristepin rolled passed the prince, hearing him chuckle. Somersaulting to his feet, the iop growled. He raced back in with a plan that would surely win—
Before he knew it, Tristepin had been flung through the air, world spinning around him. Then, like any humiliated hero would have their luck, he crashed into the ground. The people around him sneered.
"I expected that..." he said, trying his best to sound like those heroes he always looked up to. He'd show them how strong his sticks and stones would be against their words. He raced in. He crashed into a tree.
He landed on the ground, grateful for a hard head.
"My Evangelyne, I see why you've grown attached to this iop; he has an undeniable social quality." Armand laughed, sounding very similar to the shushu's biting cackles.
"...let's see how you like a dictionary!"
"Let's see how you like a punch in the face!"
Tristepin rose to his feet, channeling his anger into his arms and uprooted the tree, crashing it into the ground. Armand stopped his laughter and dodged the trunk. Finally, the hero would come out on top!
He swung the tree trunk like a sword. Though it was a bit cumbersome and slow, but it was better than nothing. Tristepin grinned, twirling it around before leaping into the air, readying a strike from above at the prone prince. But just as the trunk came crashing down, something deflected it. The tree flew out of his hands. Tristepin crashed into a wall and fell to the ground.
Glaring at the prince, Tristepin forced himself to his feet.
"Well, Sir Tristepin, it seems you're getting exhausted." Armand's hands glowed green and vines burst from the ground. They wrapped around his wrists and the prince gripped them tight. He twirled them around as he said, "I guess it's time I whip this into shape."
Tristepin got into a defensive position. "Ah, what would that be?"
Armand flicked his wrist, the vines crashing into the iop's arms. The knight tried to block the onslaught of whip lashes, but he could do little against them but protest. Pain seared where the tips cracked against his exposed arms. "How the hell do you expect me to fight back like this?"
The prince laughed as he sent out another series of hissing whips that Tristepin ducked from. Soon, the iopfound it of little use as the tip sliced his skin, no matter how fast he tried to dodge. The best idea was to retreat and attack with one of his few long-distance spells.
But fleeing only got him a few steps.
One of the vine whips wrapped around the fleeing iop's legs. Armand pulled back. The knight twisted around in the air, no better than a blanket in a crazy windstorm.
Once, twice he hit face-first the ground. Struggling up on shaky arms and spitting out dirt, he glared back at his demon-like opponent. "Just wait, cowar—"
Several lashes hit him square in his exposed hindquarters. Tristepin winced and howled as his ego bruised at the humiliation before him. He was the hero. He was—Needing to get focused. Once his enemy slowed down because of exhaustion... Tristepin waited for several agonizing lashes, biting the insides of his lip to keep his cool.
He rose, twisting around and extending an arm. The whip twisted around it and the second came after, wrapping around his other arm. Tristepin pulled, bringing the prince to him. Tristepin charged his hands full of energy before stretching them out to meet the on-coming target. The energy exploded from his hands like a wind, blasting his enemy away until he was skidding into the ground.
"Thankfully, you have a big mouth, Prince." A grin stretched across his lips as he panted. "It makes you an easy target."
Armand, however, snickered.
Tristepin furrowed his brows. The prince pointed down. The knight looked to his feet where seeds blossomed into dolls...seeds from the prince's hands...
The dolls clamped on him. Tristepin tried to shake and pull them off, barely catching the phrase the prince smugly shot at him.
The dolls exploded, kicking up dirt and sending him flying.
"Oh, and that qualifies you for something, huh?" Rubilax narrowed his eye. "You're even a bigger dumbass than I thought. Pansy ass can't even—"
"Pinpin!" The cry called him back. His ears twitched. Eva? She scooped him up into her arms and stared down at him with shinning green eyes. A concerned frown marred her features. "Pinpin, you've had your fight. Please, just stop."
A sense of confusion gripped his brain. "Really...?" he asked, voice straining a little. "But I...thought you liked brave heroes."
A humored smile refreshen her features, making her radiant. "No, you're just an iop-head," she said, her voice gentle. "You don't even know what courage means. A true knight knows when he is defeated and can bow out honorably."
A small smile came to his face. Evangelyne wrapped one of his arms around her neck before lifting him up to his feet.
Armand sighed. "Iop knights really have lost their touch." He extended a hand towards the two. "Normally, it's they who protects the ladies, not vice-versa."
The knight and the lady-bodyguard glared.
Armand's cool features contorted into a glare, voice raising into a bark. "How can you stand for this iop,Evangelyne? This knight is below your abilities."
The cra exhaled, opening her mouth to retort. But, it's the knight's duty to protect the lady.
"Well, at least I don't have pig's breathe."
The entire arena went silent.
The prince's face contorted with rage. He breathed, seething, glaring with a face that would only be reserved for the hero.
A carivine rose from the ground, snapping up Tristepin and Evangelyne. It picked up the knight before flinging him into the air, gobbling him up, and spitting him back out. He crashed into the arena wall with such force that even his body, prepared for all sorts of physical abuse, couldn't take it. His body wracked with pain from bruises, cuts, and who knew what other kinds of wounds.
"Pansy ass warrior."
You can't even tell the difference between a bwork and a princess?
"I'm right here. Come on..."
Igit. Wow, amazed by everything, isn't he? Iop knights really have lost their touch. She called you an idiot. You're even worse than the time when I first saw you. He'll faint once he sees a chick fawning over -brain. A knowing smirk. Only a bwork girl would want to kiss a zero like him. —he has an undeniable social quality. He scores against his own team! No, you moron! You probably can't fight your way out of aheavensbag. "Show him what you can do." Oh, oh, no, wait! What a hilarious stance. You don't even know what courage means. Hey, girly man, I can give them a wallop. Normally, it's they who protects the ladies, not vice-versa. You wouldn't be able to even figure out how to get into one in the first pla— Sir Pinpin. ...let's see how you like a dictionary! Piercing cackles. And here I thought iops were full of courtesy. MyEvangelyne, I see why you've grown attached to this iop— Ha, what a hard-headed knight! Oh, that's just cute. —one of the most stupidest mistakes of the century! He thinks he can get it with some petty princesses, even. Iops have the strangest ways in proving their intellectual capabilities.
...but you are definitely an iop-brain.
I'm an iop.
His hand inched to the black handle, just hovering above the piercing devil eye. Tristepin, the warrior, the knight. The hero.
The hero no more.
A surge of energy pulsed through him, devilishly addictive. Devilishly consuming.
Devilishly empowering. He rose, grinning on the inside.
Grinning on the outside.
He felt his body tear itself apart, contorting to accommodate the released shushu.
Good. All the more to fight the devil prince. He was the hero of this story. He would clobber—no, kill—the prince. Yugo might have silly teleporting powers and a pet lizard. He was too young. Too inexperienced. Too amateurish. Amalia might have guards and a brother trained in whatever practices. She was young. Snobbish. Vain. Weak. Ruel might have more experience in this like boufball and other miserly things. He was too greedy. Too selfish. Frail.
Tristepin was the hero. The Guardian of the shushu Rubilax. The pupil of Master Goultard.
The world would remember him for just that.
Yes they will, promised Rubilax.
Vines wrapped around him. Magical arrows crashed into him. Guards charged him.
Easy. Too easy.
They were not what he needed in his legend. He turned to the enemy prince, collapsed in the pile of destroyed wood and fabric.
He grinned. Once he's out of the way...
Someone stepped between him and the enemy. A frozen arrow pointed at him.
"Please, Pinpin, for the love of Cra. Stop!"
A blonde. A cra.
Oh, that was right.
She wouldn't stop him.
The prince stood, glaring at him defiantly. Heh, so he was up for it. King of Sadida? It didn't matter. He's just a coward, after all. Trying to take Eva...Who's Eva? Heh, who cares. Who cared if anyone came to stop him. A little boy in a blue hat. A desperate sadida princess. A feeble old man. A broken dragon. A stupid tofu. A demigod. Iop himself. They'd be nothing against him. A few knocks by a little man in a blue cloak? Nothing. Just a little distraction. A blonde crying over a broken bow. Noth...
Evangelyne looked at him, eyes wide and red. Mouth parted, gaping. Brows raised. Body curled in on itself, shivering. She flinched. Grew small.
Terror. Of him.
He looked at his hands. Tristepin's hands. Something surged within him. His heart raced, mind tearing itself apart. Memories flooded back. A scream welled and tore from his throat.
Tristepin de Percedal fled.
When he came to from his hellish nightmare, he came to screaming.
I trusted you. Why did you do it?
Those words echoed in his mind. Memories and physical pain followed in floods.
His hard head shattered.
Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones: End.
Who the hell said that "words can never hurt me"? They deserve a dictionary to the head.
Okay, joking aside, I really hate this mantra and, being the evil writer I am, felt the need to apply this to a character. Tristepin's character strikes me as someone who follows this philosophy in early season one. So, bam. Many of the first scenes at the beginning are based after my own personal headcanon, but also pulled from mentioned events in the series.
I do admit, this came out a little longer than I thought it would, especially with the last scene. I estimated about two thousand words, but, in the end, I really enjoyed it. Yes, I do know I really could have gone farther into season two, but the entire one-shot would be another five-thousand words. Season two will be covered in a different one-shot with a similar idea with less angst and more Pinpin's relationship with everyone else. Probably won't get that out until later...unless I hit massive writer's block while working on blazing through the rest of Rising Gate's first draft.
Well, Happy Holloween and Happy NaNoWriMo.