Paradise Lost and Found
I rarely write things based on dreams I have. Then again, I rarely ever have dreams that make enough sense to write anything coherent about them. But here you are, OWF. I've written an Oddworld fanfiction based on an Oddworld-themed dream I've had. It's a short story, so this is probably a good third of it. It starts out kind of sloppy because I've just woken up and I can never figure out if I want to tell it in past or present tense, but I'll fix those later. In the meantime, enjoy.
Paradise Lost, and Found
The Glukkon Chump wakes up from his nap. His green eyes light up in his dark office. The usual clatters and pangs of the factory are absent and the entire thirty-mile facility is quiet. This is way too spooky, he thinks to himself. He gets up out of his chair, his octopus head and overbite swinging around to investigate further. He'd usually have a Slig turn on a light switch for him, since his suit effectively makes him armless and at the mercy of the help. No such luck today. Slackers. Even a lowly Chump like him can scare a Slig or two with the threat of unemployment. Such a threat scares any Industrialist, but a Slig, whose livelihood is dependent on Moolah, especially. The Glukkon chuckles to himself. There are checks in place so that the intelligent Glukkons don't have to worry about such a fate. Glukkons built this economy, baby. For Glukkons, by Glukkons.
After tripping several times, the vastly superior Glukkon curses to himself as he comes to his office door, which slides open automatically (thank the Magog for that). To his astonishment, there is nothing. No sligs on duty, none of their horrible, slobbering Slogs following them around and barking, no slave Mudokons, no other Gluks to explain what the hell is going on. Absolutely dry of anyone he can talk to. He stands there, looking out into the vast expanse of metal scaffolding, elevators, conveyer belts, all quiet. The power's still on, but not a lowly Mudokon in sight.
His tiny feet tap against the ground as he inches across the floor, his supporting arms restrained by his expensive business suit. He has no idea where the exit is. Business is a Glukkon's whole life, it's all they know, it's all their queen births them to do. He's never had to leave. Where IS everyone?! The Glukkon huffs and puffs in frustration. Frustration soon turns to panic. WHERE IS EVERYONE?! Did they just leave? Did they pull some kind of prank on him? No one knows who he is besides the Sligs, and they're paid to impartially help any Glukkon.
"This don't make any sense!" he shouted!
Skittering along frantically on his two tiny shoes, he doesn't notice the wrench on the floor. He trips and falls, tearing his nice, pinstripe suit halfway. The Glukkon just lays there, ashamed and frightened, his clothing ripped and exposing his long, muscular arms (with his hands stuffed into his shoes) and tiny, useless legs that dangle underneath him, normally obscured by his suit.
But something strange occurs. He feels a punch in his nether regions. He looks down, and his useless appendages begin to twitch. This… this is unprecedented. No Glukkon has ever regained the use of his legs! Was it the jolt to the floor? The stress? Whatever the hell it was, it worked, because he found he could move it even more now! He couldn't curl his foot just yet, but hey, he can bend them! Maybe this isn't so bad!
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Weeks have passed now, and the Glukkon's made due quite nicely by himself. He's torn his suit to give his legs room to move. He's also located a new office near a freezer, with all the Scrabcakes and Paramite Pies he can stand. He sits with his legs folded on his new desk with his hands, previously scrunched into tight, pointed shoes, now occupied and tinkering with bits and pieces of mechanical junk. His TV flickers in front of him, playing some rerun of some stupid sitcom. He takes the device he's worked together with all the parts he's found, points it at the TV and clicks a button. The channel changes to a documentary about the new frontier and some place called Gizzard Gulch. He laughs to himself victoriously and kisses his jerry-rigged remote control, then sets it down next to the flashlight he's built. He lies back in his new throne, this kingdom of one.
"All I need," he sighs to himself contentedly.
Then, the lights flicker. He looks up, concerned. There is a hum of electricity and the lights flicker again.
"What? Aw, you gotta be kiddin' me! NO!" He shouts and races to the door. The whole factory is doing this! Lights flicker on and off and the hum of their collective power lowers and lowers until the power goes out entirely.
"No." the Glukkon whispers, bleakly.
So the chump sits in the cold, lonely dark... and waits, and sits, not really knowing what to do. Time passes, the Glukkon isn't sure how much. He sleeps a while, but does nothing. His eyes are used to dim light, but not pitch blackness. So, he sits.
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The Glukkon awakens to a clanging noise in the distance. His glowing green eyes spread open, startled, and he looks in the direction of the noise. Fumbling around on his desk, he clasps his makeshift flashlight in his feet and leaves the relative safety of the office to find the source of the sudden sound.
He walks down several corridors, the nervous look on his face all aglow in the dim light of the flashlight. He moves it around wildly, his only view of this facility from the small window of light he holds in his feet. As he feels he's lost his cozy office forever in this thin hall of metal, he sees a second glow, this one a bright teal color, illuminated from around a corner, and goes to investigate.
He rounds the corner to see what looks like a Mudokon chant orb, searching a pile of junk. The Glukkon nervously approaches it, extends one of his tiny legs, and taps it. The orb jumps in a startled manner, and enters the Glukkon's body, possessing him instantly.
He's still conscious while his body is at the mercy of the possession. The Glukkon may be a Chump in economic class, but he's no chump. He knows what happens to Industrial-types who get possessed by Mudokons; They end up being used for whatever savagery or trickery those little green toads have in store for them, and when their usefulness has run out, they're blown up. He's going to die! "I'm gonna freaking' die," he whimpers in his head.
The chant orb leaves the Glukkon's body. It dissipates. Seconds go by, but nothing happens to the wincing Glukkon. A minute passes and he's absolutely fine. The Glukkon sighs in relief, but before he can move, he is surrounded by three Mudokons!
These weren't the usual Mudokon pond scum that they use for slave labor, either, these were native Mudokons. Their head was brimmed with feathers and one, who looked to be the youngest, wore a bone through his lip. The Glukkon had been warned about these savage creatures, even less trustworthy than the slaves. These guys would skewer you without a second thought.
"If you're wondering why we didn't kill you, it's because I took pity on you," the oldest of the group said. "They just abandoned you with the rest of the garbage and left."
They read his thoughts! The Glukkon was standing on pins and needles, but he had always been taught that taking authority with these mongrels will keep them in their place.
"Hey, I know what yer doin' here! You-- you're lootin' the place! You little thieves!"
"Now just hold on," another Mudokon protested. "We're here on a right of passage, and, well, yeah, we're here to take some of this metal crap."
"No! This is MY home," The Glukkon stammered. "It's all I got left! Get out, you stupid Muddies, before I…"
"Look around! You're living in a carcass! A dead thing!" The eldest Mudokon shouted. "We have to find something shiny from your metal beast here before the place is demolished or we won't be able to complete our adulthood ceremony for another year!"
"Yeah, and it's gotta be something really neat looking!" another one chimed in.
"So bug off, ugly!" A third one shot a mean look at the Glukkon as they all moved further into the factory to get away from him.
The Glukkon doesn't want to be left alone! These are the first people he's seen in Odd-knows-how-long, even if they are swamp-sucking savages! He tucks his legs against his body and chases after them, surprised at how well he can sprint when he's not restraining his legs behind a suit.
"Hey, wait!" He calls out to them.
Unprepared for how quick he actually is, he catches up to one of the Mudokons and accidentally knocks him over. "Sorry," the Glukkon chuckles. "I ain't ever ran before."
"Look, what do you want?" The eldest demands. "I told you, we have to find something to take back with us before this place is torn down!"
"So?" The Glukkon protested. "What, you got time, right?"
"It's being torn down in a few hours." The Mud replied dryly.
"Oh, tch, plenty of-- A FEW HOURS?!" The Glukkon's glowing green eyes widened as big as saucers.
"Yeah, a few hours. Now if you'll excuse us, we have to…"
The eldest Mudokon hears a faint noise, inaudible to us.
"Hold on."
"What, what is it?" The Gluk pries in the din.
"I said, HOLD ON," The eldest Mudokon shouts. "AS IN, GRAB SOMETHING SECURE!"
The three Mudokons jump up onto a ledge above the Glukkon, who is blindsided by the situation. Just then, THOOM! The entire complex shakes violently! Girders and scaffolding plummet to the floor and worse yet, the Glukkon is knocked down and drops his flashlight! Another impact shakes the facility even more, and another, and another.
"I thought you said they were a few HOURS away, Harry!" One of the younger muds shouted to the eldest.
"Okay, my projection was a little off, Tom," The eldest, Harry, shouted back. "You've had crap days before too, come on!"
"We're gonna die, ain't we?" The Glukkon whimpered.
The Glukkon is faced with a choice, he can stay here and be crushed by his former home and even former place of employment, or…
"Okay, this is getting to be too risky! Dick, open a bird portal like they taught you!" Harry yelled over the crashing.
"It's Richard, thanks," the medium-sized Mudokon shouted back, "I hate being called 'dick.'"
"Jus' fukken' DO IT," the Glukkon demanded.
"Hey, screw off, buddy," Richard shot back, clasping his hands and bobbing them rhythmically. "You don't have any sligs and guns around to drive your authority home, here."
The Glukkon realizes that he's not getting anywhere, and suddenly has an idea. In the midst of the banging and crashing, he pipes up.
"Wait, din't youze guys say ya need ta bring back somethin' industrial-like? Somethin' big and bad enough to scare th' loincloths offa ya dirt-farmin' buddies?"
Harry looked at him in disgust but decided to let his ignorance be. "That's the gist of it, yeah."
"Take me, den!"
Richard stopped chanting. "Beg pardon?" The suggestion was so strange and out of place, apparently, that the demolitions themselves were halted.
"Yeah," The Glukkon wrapped a faux-sincere grin across his face. "I'm big, I'm bad and I'm sure ta scare da shit out of ya buddies! Yeah, you-- you don't wanna go home empty-handed, right?"
"You're just trying to save your own rotten skin!" Tom piped up.
"Hey, a Gluk's gotta do what a Gluk's gotta do!" The Glukkon admitted, taught to be proud of his own weaseliness.
"How do we know you aren't going to betray us to your friends once we get back to our village?" Harry demanded.
"Do I look like I got any sorta pipeline to anyone else on me?" The Glukkon protested. "I got half a suit and a flashlight, dat's it!"
Harry stared for a moment, then turned to Richard. "Open another portal," he said, then turned to the Glukkon. "Now, you… you make a very convincing argument."
Harry searches in the pocket of his loincloth and pulls out some rope. He drops down to meet the Glukkon eye to eye, and knocks him to the floor. The chump lands on his chin and groans in pain, but before he can even move, his arms and his legs are being bound.
"Let it be known," Tom chimes, "I think this is a really stupid idea."
Richard spoke while in an almost trancelike state, rhythmically bobbing and creating a blue orb. "Is this legal? Can we take back something living?"
"Jessie brought back a Fleech once, you know how that turned out," Tom argued. "Thankfully, someone had a knife on them and was able to cut us all out…"
"He's not a fleech, he's sentient…" Harry looked down at his prize. "…For the most part. Besides, he's consented."
And with that stinger, the factory shakes and groans again, this time larger and louder than before. Light from the outside, dim from the smog but there nonetheless, floods the hollow factory and illuminates to everyone that they are standing in a spherical room, suspended on a thick pillar of some kind, with other massive pillars with circular baubles standing beyond theirs, in a vast expanse that stretches onward and downward for miles. The Gluk recognizes these isolated pillars as offices, each pillar having an elevator to the main facility. The Gluk realizes that none of this is of any real consequence, but finds comfort in identifying where he is.
The factory shakes again. Tom and Harry fall to the floor, Richard continues to open his portal in a trance.
"Richard, hurry up!" Harry pressured.
Richard's brow furrowed, even in his trancelike state, you could tell he was exerting himself. The blue orb started to glow, and a bright light emanated from its core. With something like a crackling, tearing sound, the energy sphere expanded and a beautiful, oval-shaped doorway was opened. It was like a window, and in that window shone a pristine little village with wooden huts and gorgeous trees, all built around a lake. With a sudden shudder and a groan, Richard releases himself from his chanting, gasping for breath. It was obviously a lot of work to even open one of those doors.
"I am… so glad… I don't have to… hold it open…" Richard panted. "It's… good for… four people."
Harry was neither disappointed or pleased. "Good job, Richard. Looks like the decision's been made, then."
The factory shook and heavy objects tumbled and slammed. Little Tom helps Richard to his feet and the two of them walk through the portal, light flashing as they enter. Harry grabbs the bound Gluk and looks him dead in the eyes.
"You better not try anything stupid," he warned.
"Wouldn't dream uv it, pal. I'm just glad to-- WOAH, LOOK OUT!"
Harry looks back to see a massive pillar falling toward them just beyond a drop-off point at the end of the room. It lurches towards them both, but the Mudokon is too quick. He slings the Glukkon around his shoulder and runs back towards the wall and climbs upward, the pads of his hands gripping the wall like a gecko. He makes his way for the ledge where Richard made his portal. Thank the Odds, he thinks to himself. Tommy and Rich are safe on the other side.
As he is turned away and being clasped underhand by the strong arms of Harry, The Glukkon can't see the beautiful landscape on the other side of the portal. He CAN, however, see that falling pillar slamming into theirs, breaking through the spherical office and tipping them over with it, like dominoes. The pillar lets out a moan as it screeches downward. Harry lifts into thin air and they're both at the mercy of gravity. With a determined brow furrow, he winds his arm back, still holding his prize. The Glukkon yelps as he feels himself being thrown. In a flash, he leaves the confines of the crumbling metal fortress and hits the dirt and grass with a thud.
The Glukkon coughs, groans, mutters something to himself and looks around. His eyes don't adjust completely to the sudden burst of sunlight after a lifetime of living in a dimly lit metal can. Spots turn to blurs, blurs turn to shapes, and after a moment of blinking and peering (while his eyes still don't adjust completely) he realizes, to his utter dismay that he is surrounded by native Mudokons, some wide-eyed, some angry, some confused, none of them happy to see a Glukkon in their midst. And he's bound by his arms and legs.
Oh, I am totally screwed... he thinks to himself.
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Last edited by Dipstikk; 01-24-2010 at 01:12 AM..
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