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I thought BigBros were only formed by Vykker steroids, so how could there be a BigBro in ancient times?
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This chapter, though it doesn't explain it entirely, says that Volvo was the original Bigbro Slig, occuring while Oddworld was young, and being a natural step on slig evolution. I try to cover all bases.
I would have had a steef morph, had Stranger been around when I began the story.
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there's still what, 5 more chapters?
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Actually, about 9, counting today's. They'll cover the rest of Dante's trek through the wastelands beyond Rotag. Dante's Exoddus will be along shortly thereafter, and will tell the story of Dante's return to Tastee Treets.
And Esus! Good to hear from you again.
Enjoy the chapter of the day.
Chapter 36
In my time of ultimate suffering, I began thinking back on things I had done in life. I vaguely remembered my first job, cooking at Tastee Treets. The stitches on my lips were starting to stretch and loosen, and I could eat solid food, and often succeeded in sneaking small scraps.
I remember meeting Flex and Adonis, the two Mudokon brothers from the same egg clutch. They looked so similar ... lime-green skin and white feathers. They always snuck around together ... I met them, in fact, sneaking into the kitchen where I had then been stationed at the time, to snag some Fried Friets. They got a severe beating for that, I recall ... by a BigBro, too ....
Argh! How could I let that slip my mind? The most important
will you stop whining?
part of having the power was
jeez, you’re making me regret doing this!
to get someone to back it up. And if
stop drowning in your self pity and listen up!
I couldn’t remember to do that, what use to my coworkers could I be?
{Get over it!} a voice roared in my mind. A sense of irritation and anger coursed through me. Someone was contacting me, and he was pissed.
{Who is this?} I wondered, although I feared I knew who it was.
{Clog, the mudokon spirit whose tree you destroyed!}
Oh, cripes. {Okay ... and what can I do for you?}
{Well, stop being so Odd-awfully depressing! Criminy! I followed you part of the way into the Blasted Lands of Lufk, and you were pitiful. I felt guilty ....}
Aha! A tinge of sympathy at last. {And you what? Took the flash power for a cursed mudokon who thinks he’s Abe?}
Clog sensed my intentional sarcasm, and wasn’t amused. {Just turn into the BigBro, already. You should be able to survive the heat in that body.}
I was skeptical, but didn’t sense any deception in him. {Okay. And thanks.}
But there was no answer. He was gone.
Okay. Now the tricky part: to physically chant. I peeled my arms off the scorching ground with an effort, and pushed myself into a crouching position. It took a moment to regain the feeling in my shoulders. When it was back, I took as deep a breath as I could, and began chanting.
My body instantly swelled to a huge, bulky yellow-green mass. My neck thickened and, together with my head, elongated and pulled forward. My face scrunched up into a small point with a few withered fingers in my face. A third eye grew on the front of my face, above my first two. I didn’t expect this at
all, and almost lost concentration. My legs melted together and became a wimpy, stubbly tail. My arms bulked up and out, and ... that was about it.
Except for the part where the heat no longer seemed to be an issue. The strong body of the naturally mutated slig I now inhabited had no sense of hostility, like the steroidal sligs I had seen all my life. And, I knew its movements would be lithe and graceful, unlike the clunky horrors that marched around in four legged monster pants.
I was up on my hands (which are what sligs call them, even though we muds see them as their true feet) and busily plodding along, not deterred in the slightest by the heat.
The rocky earth slowly gave way to sand as I continued. The sand was somehow hotter than the rock had been, but my BigBro hands weren’t complaining,
It was nearly two in the morning when I stumbled onto the oasis. A little vegetation had sprouted out of a natural spring in the ground. A few stumpy trees stood about, and they produced a tough-hided fruit that soon proved inedible. Lastly, I noticed the totem, designed to look like a gluk in the buff that stuck unimportantly off to the side of the little patch of trees..
As it was getting late (my internal mudokon clock insisted that it was time to give up for the night), I reverted to my natural body and contacted Patch.
It was strange ... I was seeing his dream instead of feeling his emotion. He had been firing arrows into a pit filled with glukkons, and surrounded by rather gourgeous-looking female mudokons.
Imagine his surprise when his dream suddenly centered on me. I apologized for it being so late, but I needed someone to help me with another totem, then no more until tomorrow.
His dream became vague and hard to understand ... and then he simply woke up.
{Dante, I really hope that was me being psychotic.}
{‘Fraid not, buddy. Can you help me?}
Silence. A female mudokon stumbled out of a portal nearby a minute later. She looked sleepy. I assumed Patch had just woken up his partner and sent her through.
“Hi,” she yawned. “You must be ... cripes! Is it ever hot out here!”
I sighed. “Yeah ... you can hurry and take the Flash power, and go on home, miss ....”
“Druna,” she muttered. “I’m Druna.” And she accepted the tattoo with little complaint, and returned home.
That accomplished, I went and lay under a tree. I couldn’t sleep, of course ... but at least my body could rest.