Re: The Glorious Championship! [S3G5] [Round Two: The Kestalvian Rainforest]
07-24-2011, 02:21 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Lord Paradise.
Restless-She didn’t have a great sense of direction, but was always pleased when in her climbing she stumbled across the upside-down tree. It was perhaps one of the hardest places to locate in Alpha-He-Declines-the-Nipple’s territory, as an upside-down tree could only grow where the canopy is as thick as the ground. The upside-down tree hung from eight roots, each tangled up in the leaves and branches of the right-side-up trees, and its canopy spread ten feet above the ground, withered and reddish from the lack of moonlight. Restless-She had an appreciation for the oddities such as these that littered the forest—the snake that glowed in the night time, the beehive on the back of a tortoise, the Gore/Lieberman poster stapled to the ear of an elephant—that the rest of the family neglected or else feared. Even She-Makes-New-Tools hadn’t cared when Restless-She had shown her the upside-down tree, waving indifference-impatience-frivolity-time.
Here Restless-She was again, however, exploring the narrow space beneath the upside-down canopy. The last time she’d seen the upside-down bird’s nest, some six or seven conceptions-of-time before, the birds hanging there were no larger than her finger; now they flitted back and forth, their red-and-yellow bellies to the sky. Restless-She wondered what would happen if she caught one of the birds and simply turned it right-side-up. Would the bird feel the rightness of its new notion of down, and go tell its family? Likely not. Restless-She herself barely knew the ways and wheres of the forest sometimes, when she got to exploring.
Some animal Restless-She didn’t know made a call like a length of "Ah"s—AAAAAAAAAAA—and crashed in the canopy above. Restless-She jumped up and caught hold of a branch, which, confused again as to where the ground was, seemed to sag upwards with her weight. She flipped over the branch and grabbed hold of the trunk of the tree, climbing high enough to look around and try to find the thing that had made the sound. This didn’t prove difficult. It was a gangly ape furred in a dangerous-looking purple with a single triangular stripe of yellow. Its sweet smell and bright colors, like a flower, were an obvious portent of poison. Restless-She approached it closely, presuming it still to be alive.
It was. It rose, unsteady and freakishly erect, one long thin arm ending in a tool that made a sound like a dozen quarry-birds working the noontime shift. “Jaux Lee Shitted Such’im Pansy,” it sounded. Restless-She clapped and bared her teeth and waved defense-curiousity-strength-confidence-personalspace-poison-beware-motherfucker. The tall ape gesticulated, tripped, fell, got up, waved atheism-farce with its one free hand, and sounded, ”Eye dunneva neeba nanness,” before tripping again. Restless-She responded fucking-retard-wave-intention-cooperate-understanding-benefit-fucking-retarded-asshole, at which the purple ape shed its purple furs, tossed them at Restless-She, called, “Wet him iDoo intokken tuachim pansy, itzzizz fucking chekked,” and then stumbled its way off the edge of the upside-down tree’s canopy and out of sight.
Lacking the attention span to puzzle over that little encounter, Restless-She inspected her prize. She didn’t feel poisoned. The false fur, she reasoned, was a trick to ward off predators--both the regular carnivores and the darker, deeper things for which the family had no waves. It took her about a minute to figure out how to put it on herself.
The jacket seemed to fit better on her than it had on the tall one. She looked good. She would have to show the family—particularly She-Makes-New-Tools—and for once, Restless-She had the feeling that she knew exactly the way back home.
Restless-She didn’t have a great sense of direction, but was always pleased when in her climbing she stumbled across the upside-down tree. It was perhaps one of the hardest places to locate in Alpha-He-Declines-the-Nipple’s territory, as an upside-down tree could only grow where the canopy is as thick as the ground. The upside-down tree hung from eight roots, each tangled up in the leaves and branches of the right-side-up trees, and its canopy spread ten feet above the ground, withered and reddish from the lack of moonlight. Restless-She had an appreciation for the oddities such as these that littered the forest—the snake that glowed in the night time, the beehive on the back of a tortoise, the Gore/Lieberman poster stapled to the ear of an elephant—that the rest of the family neglected or else feared. Even She-Makes-New-Tools hadn’t cared when Restless-She had shown her the upside-down tree, waving indifference-impatience-frivolity-time.
Here Restless-She was again, however, exploring the narrow space beneath the upside-down canopy. The last time she’d seen the upside-down bird’s nest, some six or seven conceptions-of-time before, the birds hanging there were no larger than her finger; now they flitted back and forth, their red-and-yellow bellies to the sky. Restless-She wondered what would happen if she caught one of the birds and simply turned it right-side-up. Would the bird feel the rightness of its new notion of down, and go tell its family? Likely not. Restless-She herself barely knew the ways and wheres of the forest sometimes, when she got to exploring.
Some animal Restless-She didn’t know made a call like a length of "Ah"s—AAAAAAAAAAA—and crashed in the canopy above. Restless-She jumped up and caught hold of a branch, which, confused again as to where the ground was, seemed to sag upwards with her weight. She flipped over the branch and grabbed hold of the trunk of the tree, climbing high enough to look around and try to find the thing that had made the sound. This didn’t prove difficult. It was a gangly ape furred in a dangerous-looking purple with a single triangular stripe of yellow. Its sweet smell and bright colors, like a flower, were an obvious portent of poison. Restless-She approached it closely, presuming it still to be alive.
It was. It rose, unsteady and freakishly erect, one long thin arm ending in a tool that made a sound like a dozen quarry-birds working the noontime shift. “Jaux Lee Shitted Such’im Pansy,” it sounded. Restless-She clapped and bared her teeth and waved defense-curiousity-strength-confidence-personalspace-poison-beware-motherfucker. The tall ape gesticulated, tripped, fell, got up, waved atheism-farce with its one free hand, and sounded, ”Eye dunneva neeba nanness,” before tripping again. Restless-She responded fucking-retard-wave-intention-cooperate-understanding-benefit-fucking-retarded-asshole, at which the purple ape shed its purple furs, tossed them at Restless-She, called, “Wet him iDoo intokken tuachim pansy, itzzizz fucking chekked,” and then stumbled its way off the edge of the upside-down tree’s canopy and out of sight.
Lacking the attention span to puzzle over that little encounter, Restless-She inspected her prize. She didn’t feel poisoned. The false fur, she reasoned, was a trick to ward off predators--both the regular carnivores and the darker, deeper things for which the family had no waves. It took her about a minute to figure out how to put it on herself.
The jacket seemed to fit better on her than it had on the tall one. She looked good. She would have to show the family—particularly She-Makes-New-Tools—and for once, Restless-She had the feeling that she knew exactly the way back home.