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HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread 
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
angelusbr wrote:
Joey, you must always pick someone whose fandom is at least compatible with yours.
It's star wars vs star trek all over again.

Yeah. fandom is one of the qualities I look for in a girl.
mainly because no girl who isn't a geek like me would be interested in me.

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Tue Mar 27, 2012 9:05 pm
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
Oh hush, Brent. You're just fine.

Lester is really happy in this. Very surprising really, considering all the complaints he usually has. I guess it is being so close to Japanese culture.

Bolt and Lester will now be skype buddies or some such, I am sure of it! :lol:

I wonder how long Samson has been studying Kendo?

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Tue Mar 27, 2012 11:09 pm
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
I know I'm fine, what part of that sounded like only geek girls liking me was a bad thing? I only like geek girls anyway.

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Tue Mar 27, 2012 11:21 pm
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
RandomGeekNamedBrent wrote:
angelusbr wrote:
Joey, you must always pick someone whose fandom is at least compatible with yours.
It's star wars vs star trek all over again.

Yeah. fandom is one of the qualities I look for in a girl.
mainly because no girl who isn't a geek like me would be interested in me.

That is so true

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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
2.
The Coliseum Sports Center, Terrace High

An orchestra played ancient folk music in the background.
Incense aromatized the air.
The public in the small amphitheater stood silent and gave full attention to the human figure at the center of the Dojo.
The human was speaking, while two big dogs were putting on their body armor with calm movements. “Despite Kendo being a relatively modern form of martial art, its roots are entwined with the ancient kenjutsu Samurai discipline. One and many are the purposes of Kendo.” Then, the man proceeded to list them as if chanting a song, the music in background a crescendo marking his words.
“To mold the mind and body.
To cultivate a vigorous spirit,
And through correct and rigid training,
To strive for improvement in the art of Kendo.
To hold in esteem courtesy and honor.
To associate with others with sincerity.
And to forever pursue the cultivation of oneself.
Thus will one be able:
To love one's country and society;
To contribute to the development of culture;
And to promote peace and prosperity among all peoples.”
The music stopped. Many in the public started, as if their attention had been cut like a wire.
The man waited a minute, before speaking again. “In 1200, during the Kakamura Period, master Masanori Miyafuku opened his first school dedicated to the training of animals in the art of kenjutsu. He believed that those who follow us in our battles should also be able to follow the way of the sword as well, not to mimic us, but to live according to the most honorable code of their teachers.
“Not all animals were trained as fighters, they would make an elite.” The man’s hand pointed at the paper rice door, depicting a painting of an armor-clad canine figure in a fighting stance, sword drawn and fangs bared, back to back with a similarly clad human samurai. The words 影の剣 were painted next to the canine. “Kage no Ken, or Shadow-Swords, were such elite. They were the fighting companions and the guardians of our warriors. If a samurai would die in battle, it was sacred duty of his Shadow to carry on his tasks and honor his companion’s spirit.
“If the Shadow lived, then he would be honored as his companion would have been honored for completing the task. If the Shadow succumbed to his fears, then he would be hunted down just as if his companion would have been for dishonoring his duties.
“Since then, times have changed, the samurais are gone, but not their spirit, which lives on in this noble art. Today we will assist to a session of Gokaku-Geiko, meaning practicing between two students of similar skill level. In this case, the students known as Samson from Terrace High,” his head went to the hulking St. Bernard, now completely clad in his bogu “and Onur from River Ridge. They both are at 3-dan level, meaning that three years passed since receiving their first dan, two after their second dan.
“This match will have only one referee, myself, and to win, the kendoka will have to perform the Kitsune ni Kama, or Fox Bite, a technique proper of my school. Since there will be one single attack to win, to try and fail will mean losing the match.” The man, at this point, fell silent and walked backwards to the door.
Samson and Kato walked toward each other. They bowed in greeting, then put their shinai or bamboo swords against each other’s, while the man kept a white flag high and another, red one low in the other hand.

“Fox Bite?” Bolt whispered to Lester. “Sounds like a Saint Seiya attack. No offense meant.”
Lester was grinning like a wolf in front of a juicy meal. Without even turning his eyes, he whispered back, “Men-Bu is one of the scoring points in a kendo match. It involves hitting the top or the sides of the head protector. The Kitsune ni Kama consists in hitting all of the three points – sides and top – in one swift move, before the adversary can par. Just like the ancient Great Kitsune is said to do to confound his adversaries, as if he had three heads. They say that the legend of the three-headed Cerberus was born out of that move!”
---
The Astral Plane of Infinite Possibilities

“Now you’re just being a show-off!” Pete said.
The three higher entities known as Spirit Dragon, Pete the griffin and the Great Kitsune, were sitting on a couch big enough to swallow suns, in front of a Galaxy TV screen –meaning, a whole galaxy used as TV set.
Someone had dubbed them ‘The Cosmic Nerds’. For a good reason.
“Watch it, Your Peskiness,” the nine-tailed cosmic fox said, sipping from his can of soda. “Not my fault if that particularly arrogant traveler decided to spread the word.”
“Yeah, and my ex-girlfriend holds a grudge with me because of that stunt as well! She says she’d reconsider hanging out with me if I stopped hanging out with you lot.”
“Then abandon the Game,” the serpentine Dragon said. She used her tail to scratch her throat.
The blue-feathered griffin fumed. “Dream on, girl.”
---
Tegan felt both the excitement from the crowd and her own heart beating fast. Samson looked like one of those glorious warriors the man had talked about. And this Onur guy was some match! The cat hadn’t thought there could be someone like her boyfriend, and she also felt a slight sense of guilt thinking about the majestic Kangal dog…
Her attention was caught by a woman intent on taking notes on a bloc, while studying the kendoka –a journalist?
Then the man lowered the flag with a sharp gesture. Tegan’s eyes were back to the dojo.
Kendo wasn’t a quiet sport. The kendoka would shout during their attack, to express their fighting spirit. Also, a stomp of the foot, the fumikomi-ashi, accompanied an attack.
It also served to canalize the attention of the spectators as Samson’s and Onur’s swords clashed against each other. Despite the dogs being large and muscular, their movements were swifts. It was like watching two clouds fighting for the dominion of the sky, their roars like thunder, their swords like thunderbolts.
And yet, in spite of all appearance, they weren’t trying to harm each other. It would become clear every time they found facing each other, grinning ferociously, muscles bulging under their keigoki while their swords were pressed against each other.
They stared in each other’s eyes, looking for a hesitation, waiting for a moment of weakness.
But the dogs didn’t talk to each other. They weren’t supposed to. Their focus was supposed to go to the next move, to think one step ahead of the adversary.
Onur and Samson jumped backward then both roared and attacked again, under the inscrutable gaze of their master and referee.
This was an unusual match: when the opponents could strike different areas to score a point, it allowed them to use different fighting techniques. Now that their victory depended on one ‘miracle strike’, these kendoka depended on one single moment. It was, truly, a war of nerves, a test of patience.
The animals in the crowd felt each and every moment of that tension. They could smell and hear far better than their human neighbors, they knew how strong was the tension. The cats kept unsheathing their claws against the armrests, the dogs gnashed their teeth every time an attack was brought, as if wanting to bite the swords…
Tegan was holding her breath. She found herself rooting neither for Samson, nor for Onur. She wanted this thing to end! She wanted to see the final attack, instead of being kept on the—
It happened so quickly, one could barely believe it had happened at all! Samson and Onur moved at the same time! Just as if they were one the mirror image of the other… But it was Samson who moved his head just that much to let the wooden sword of his adversary to brush his helm.
At the same time, three claps, like short bursts of lightning, echoed in the hall.
Silence befell on the crowd. Most of the humans blinked, as if they had just awakened from a trance. Many tails and back furs had puffed up.
Then the white flag went up and pointed at Samson, the victor!
The crowd stood up and applauded. The Saint-Bernard pulled off his helm and bowed in salute, quickly imitated by Onur.

“That was really good,” the Kangal Dog whispered. He bowed again.
“Thank you. You performed well too.”
“There is no ‘well’ when you lose. Next time, you’ll know defeat.”
Samson smiled. “Someone needs a lesson in humility again.”
Whatever Onur wanted to say, he was interrupted when a feline figure streaked and held the other dog’s neck in a powerful hug. “Yay! You won, Sam! I knew it!”
Samson held her back. “Thank you, but really, it was—“
A ring came from the rack he had put his collar on, before dressing up for the match. Samson showed an embarrassed smile to his girlfriend. “Sorry, dear. Hold it a moment.” He tried not to blush too hard as chuckles came from the public. He really hoped it was something important, or—
“Mr. Watkins?” asked the human voice as Samson flipped the cell open. A voice he didn’t recognize.
“That would be me, yes.”
“My name is Justine L. Lamars—“
That name was enough to catch Sam’s attention like a beacon with a moth. He wagged hard. “Agent of the pet stars?!”
“That would be me, yes,” the voice said with a hint of a smile in it. “I just watched your…performance, Mr. Watkins. Since I am looking for a dog in an action movie featuring Primo, I would like to know if you were available for a—“
“I’m in it!” he barked, holding the phone with both paws, as if the thing could slip away from his grasp at any moment. Samson’s eyes were two pinheads. He didn't care anymore if his sensei was disapproving, he was ready to pay any penalties to make sure not to lose this occasion! “I’m in! Name your price, it’s good! No! I will pay you to star in a Primo movie!”
The voice at the phone laughed. “That’s the spirit. I take it that the references on the Fulcrum’s homepage are correct?”
“Yes!”
“Fine. I will e-mail you the date for an appointment. Congratulations again.” Then the line went dead, leaving behind a very, very, very happy doggie!

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Last edited by valerio on Wed Aug 28, 2013 12:25 pm, edited 1 time in total.



Wed Mar 28, 2012 11:43 am
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
So Samson is going to be in a movie with Primo. Can't wait to see what happens.

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Wed Mar 28, 2012 2:00 pm
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
That was an exciting battle. I can't wait to see what else happens at the festival.

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Wed Mar 28, 2012 2:48 pm
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
Nice try Dragon. For some reason I think Pete's plans are going to be foiled so hard he'll wish his cereberus "girlfriend" would punish him instead.
A man can dream...

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Wed Mar 28, 2012 4:09 pm
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
Honorable encounters, is something that you will rarely see this days.

it was quite enjoyable...

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Wed Mar 28, 2012 7:21 pm
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
Great Battle! Samson just keeps getting good news. His head will explode if he gets any more excited! :lol:

Quite a battle too. Muscles and Bamboo swords make for a great action scene.

Lester is quite knowledgeable! Wonder if he has ever studied Kendo.

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Wed Mar 28, 2012 8:38 pm
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
3.
Osaka Restaurant, the Fulcrum, Terrace High

As expected, today the Japanese Osaka Restaurant was filled to capacity. The owner, an immigrant from the namesake city, had been working nonstop since the opening. He and his staff and family had expected to have more clients for this first hina-matsuri, but not like this!
Hishimochi, the traditional diamond-shaped rice cakes, had been selling out the moment they were put on display, both sweet and not. His friends working at the Gift Shop were not less busy what with the visitors coming from the city and from Babylon Gardens to buy the dolls and the doll sets.
Mr. Yamamoto wondered if he could expect such enthusiasm for the next planned celebrations… But for now, he'd be content if he could reach the end of the day without collapsing!
When he had opened his restaurant here at Terrace High, Yamamoto had wanted to promote a mixed species clientele. Like so many of his peers, he had been raised with the stories of the legendary samurais and their ‘shadow-swords’. He felt as if he was paying homage to them with his work.
He had seriously underestimated the appetite an excited crowd of pets could work out! “Here you go,” he said merrily, while putting on the table the fourth tray filled with a pyramid of rice cakes, while his younger son was serving another round of saké bottles to the proud owners.

Bruce Watkins filled his ceramic cup with the rice wine before lifting it. “Here’s another to Samson and his brilliant career!”
“Cheers!” said the other humans, while the animals raised soda glasses.
The superstar, sitting at the center of the table, blushed once again and took a cake. “Guys, come on! It’ll be probably a minor part. I’ll be some villain’s henchman and take a good beating from Primo. Barely worth the end credits.”
“It’s a start!” Tegan said. She hadn’t drunk any soda so far, but excitement was enough to keep her quite high. She couldn’t believe that her boyfriend was going to play in the movies! Huh, except for that short parenthesis with that gang, life with what-was-his-name? had been so boring! “Today you get to be beaten up. Tomorrow, you’ll have your own TV series! Just like Chuck Norris!”
“That was a special effect!” the whole table said with one voice.
“Whatever, guys,” Samson said, while stuffing himself with another cake… “Uh, finished again?” His mouth spitting out rice and crumbs, the Saint Bernard raised the tray high and roared, “More! There are hungry pets here!”
From the kitchen came the sound of someone crying in despair.
Samson put down the empty tray. “As I was saying, it’s not like I have the golden brick road ahead of me. I know that woman, she’s also known as The Meatgrinder. She picks up us by the lot, and then starts a series of the hardest selections.” He lowered his eyes and ears. “I don’t even know if I’ll even make it to shake paws with Primo…”
Bruce slapped a hand against his back. “One thing at a time, boy: you’ve been selected for an interview, and that is great advertisement in itself! In fact, I need you to get back to those posters project…”
“DAD!” Samson shouted, blushing as if he had just been proposed for something beyond the allowed rating.
“Posters?” Tegan’s eyes were suddenly sparkling with too much…interest.
Mr. Watkins was looking with unbridled pride at his son. “The next World’s Best in Show will be held here at Terrace High, and Samson will participate. He’s a winner, I tell you, and I want his image to be our testimonial for my gym before the competition, so that his opponents will know who’s the real star.”
“Da-aad...!” the poor furred gargantuan was by now trying to hide his head under the tablecloth.
Tegan stood up. “Sorry, guys, nature calls. Tell this big bear to save some of the dessert for me, okay?”
---
The Hall

“Gentlepets, please,” William said – again “I will take care to inform you the moment your guest will be here. You know you can trust me.”
But the two German Shepherd/Husky mix siblings didn’t even care to answer to the poor squirrel. They just kept staring at the central pillar through which the elevators ran, through which people and pets kept flowing in and out.
William sighed and went back to the reception counter, ready to dispense suggestions to the many visitors.
“He’s late,” Gauss Gottschalk said/grumbled.
“Always been since he was a pup, you know it,” Curie said, in a calmer voice. “You know, William is right…”
“I won’t let him find him sleeping on a bad or…” Gauss let the sentence suspended.
“Or playing with the other dogs, like any normal pet?”
He didn’t even care to flick an ear as he said, “I may not be a soldier like him, but I’m not going to appear like some…lazy civilian.”
Curie sighed. “I stil don’t know why I put up with you on this, brother.”
“Because you know where your duty lay, sister.”
“And where would they lay, little brother?” asked a cheerful voice…behind their back. Both siblings nearly jumped out of their fur.
“Wow, talk about being tense,” said the purebred GSD, who wore a military jacket. “But it always worked with you, G-pup.”
“Duke!” Curie said and hugged him, wagging crazy “Aww, we missed you so much!”
Duke hugged her back. “Even him, little sister?”
She broke the hug and nodded. “Even him. He collected all of your letters from the front line. You won’t find a more dedicated fan than him when it comes to patriotism.”
“Really? And here I thought he was planning my downfall out of rivalry for being the lackey of a spoiled ultrabillionaire while I got all the glory.”
“Watch it, you big runt!” Gauss growled…the he too gave Duke a powerful hug.
“My, someone’s been working out I see. You could make a decent message-delivery pup.”
“You say it only because you’re afraid I’ll become top dog of your unit…” Only then did he and Curie notice the presence of two other canines dressing a military uniform –one of them being a female Boxer he had learnt to know because she appeared in more than one picture.
Curie was the first to introduce herself. “And you should be Bailey, right?”
The soldier dog nodded and squeezed the other female’s paw in a gentle iron grip. “Pleased to meet you. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you two… Oh, yes, and you can stop staring at her, she’s one of the good guys.” Bailey was referring to…a jackal. A sandy-furred, silver-backed female, lean but without an ounce of extra fat, all muscles and two piercing green eyes. Like her companions, she wore a thick utility collar with a dog tag hanging from it.
The jackal clasped her paws at the height of her waist and bowed slightly. “I am Zara.” She spoke in a good English, with that exotic accent that Gauss and Curie instinctively expected from a creature from the mysterious desert lands.
Not to mention that, in Gauss’ eyes, she looked indeed beautiful. Pet jackals were rare in the US, and she was indeed a finest representative of her breed.
“I am in love,” Gauss said mechanically, extending his paw. He then shook his head. “No! I mean, you look beautiful… NO! I mean…” He lowered his ears in shame and whimpered. “…honored.”
Duke patted his little brother’s back. “That was good. And remember to stay honored, grunt: she’s my girlfriend.”
Gauss looked even the more crestfallen. “Really?!” Curie’s eyes glittered instead. “Did you two fell in love during a secret mission, surrounded by enemies? Daawww!!”
Duke laughed. “I don’t know about the mission’s secrecy, but I can tell you we were surrounded by enemies. And she chose that moment to show her true colors.” Duke wrapped his arm around her shoulders, nuzzling one of her big triangular ears. “Ain’t that the truth?”
She nuzzled him back. “You forgot to add that you were pretty unable to defend yourself and that I had to pull you out of your trouble, but yes, Curie is right.”
Duke’s right ear flopped. “Hon, what did I tell you about ‘excess of sincerity’?”
“That there’s never enough of it when it comes to male ego. Your version depicted me ending up begging for help while you fought like a wolf to protect me and win my eternal gratitude.”
“Will you be my best friend?” Gauss said.
“Will we get something to eat?” Bailey asked, clearing her throat to attract attention. “This place is cool and all the rest but my stomach need something better than mess rations.”
Curie nodded. “No problem. We reserved our seats at our finest restaurant. It’s Italian.”
Three muzzles started to water. “I didn’t smell Italian food since we had that cook… Bailey, do you remember him?”
“Riccardone? You can say that again! That guy could make the perfect lasagna with practically everything he could find.” Bailey sighed, shaking her head. “Poor Ric: a car bomb got him while he was shopping for spices in town. He’s still sorely missed.”
Gauss led his guests toward the pillar. “I guess there will be a lot of stories you want to share. I hope you like Barbera. No better wine with Bistecche alla Fiorentina.”
---
Restrooom level

“Oh, hey Tegan! I’m sorry if I’m interrupting something, but there was this idea I wanted to submit to you. You know, to help Volant out of his shell.”
When R.R. Gottschalk had proposed his architects to devote an entire level to the hygiene practices, he was met with many a doubtful face. When one architect had suggested that it would’ve been better to build up facilities at each level of the commercial area, their employer had answered that they would’ve stolen room to the shops –not to mention that bay law all restaurant and bars must have their own restroom.
A single restroom level would manage more easily the flux of people and it wouldn’t have spoiled the image of the other activities. The elevators were fast, going to destination wouldn’t have taken longer than losing time in an embarrassing line. Also, the cleaning staff would have an easier time working in a single level rather than being dispersed in ten of them.
Elpis Karahalios particularly appreciated that solution. He was pleasantly surprised every time he went here, find the place smelling clean, with only the faintest traces from the smoking area. Today, because of the Doll Festival, the place was crowded, but still the facilities held. If they smelled worse, he couldn't tell. He had developed a fastidious cold, and could barely use his nose.
The Australian Terrier wasn’t looking for Tegan today, true, but since he happened to meet her here, why not give it a try? “You know,” he said while drying his paws under the infrared lamp. “I think we could ask Kwesi if we can borrow his old den, you know, the hole under the tree. If the gardening staff didn’t fill it up, I could use that as mine and Volant’s secret hideout. You know, the guy really wants to open up, but he hates the idea of someone else listening… So, what do you think? Tegan?” He frowned. “Is that such a bad idea not to be worth of your attention, Mr. Club President? And don’t pretend you’re not there, it’s offending, you know.”
“It would be, if there was someone to offend you to start with,” said another voice. The voice of Pawdrick. “Elpis, my lad, who ye’re talking to?”
Elpis sighed, pointing at his right. “I’m talking with Tegan, and no, I don’t like these games! I may miss both eyes, but my collar contains a sensor that warns me if someone I know is near me, okay?” He couldn’t see Pawdrick expression turn to one of worry, but he surely could hear the change in his voice.
“A sensor that is supposed to be built in our collars as well, right?” Pawdrick asked.
Elpis knew he wasn’t joking. “Yes. Why?”
The Scottish Collie went down on all fours and his paw reached under the sinks.
And he pulled out a collar with a ‘7’ tag hanging from it. “Because I know where she is not.”
---
Babylon Gardens

“Jug of milk, spaghetti, six eggs, ham, butter, chewbone. Jug of milk, spaghetti, six eggs, ham, butter, chewbone. Jug of milk, spaghetti, six eggs, ham, butter, chewbone…” Peanut Butter Sandwich walked on the road to the minimarket, his eyes glued to the road as he kept repeating the items in the shop list he had forgotten home when he was halfway.
“Jug of milk, spaghetti, six eggs, ham, butter, chewbone…” He also wondered if he could find something for the kittens. They were growing fast, and they had sharp claws. They were really something to see when they played with their toys, but when they decided to knead against his back it was a bit less funny –oh well, to Grape it was, and so he endured. Not to mention that they were his litter as well, and a good daddy never let his kittens down!
“Jug of milk, spaghetti, six eggs, ham, butter, chewbone, betadine…”
“Hey, dog!”
“Gak!” Peanut felt his heart hammering. And, of course, he forgot all about his list the moment the voice addressed him. “Yes…sir?”
There was a blue van in the middle of the road, the motor purring quietly. On the van’s side, it read U-Haul in yellow. Its driver, a young man no older than 30, was leaning out the window. “Sorry, but I’ new here. I was wondering if you could help me with a direction.”
Peanut wagged happily. “Sure! What do you need to know, Sir?”
The man nodded. “GPS is broken. I was looking for 5, MyFair Drive.”
Peanut thought over it. “Hmm, it’s at the other side of the Gardens, but if you’re not in a hurry you could just turn right and—“ the man sprayed his face with something that smelled like a potent perfume. Peanut sneezed. “Ouch! Why did you…do…that?” he was out before he could understand what was happening.
The van’s side door slid open and four stocky arms dragged the sedated dog inside. A moment later, Peanut’s collar was thrown outside. The van moved on, within speed limits, without attracting undue attention…


SEASON III
Episode 9
FIN

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Last edited by valerio on Sat Mar 31, 2012 5:08 am, edited 1 time in total.



Sat Mar 31, 2012 4:16 am
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
Due credits are due

Duke Walters, Zara and Bailey are (C) Coatl_Ruu, used with kindest permission. They feature in his awesome THE DOGS OF WAR, which you can find here: viewtopic.php?p=211662#p211662
They will feature in the next episode as well, which also marks the 50TH episode of this series (not counting the pilots and the specials)
Hope you'll like it. We've got still a lot of road to walk together :D

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Last edited by valerio on Sun Apr 01, 2012 2:51 pm, edited 1 time in total.



Sat Mar 31, 2012 4:18 am
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
sorry for the triple post.
I just got my prize for getting third place in the ALL THE KING'S MEN contest: a free drawing by none other than Rick Griffin! :D :D
The image depicts the final scene in Chapter 3, Episode 8 of Season II.
Allow me a moment of happiness and pride, guys.
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
And you didn't get a heart attack when you saw it for the first time? :)

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Sat Mar 31, 2012 6:16 am
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
I had a crash cart handy.
I'm still smiling.

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Sat Mar 31, 2012 6:24 am
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
that picture is so awsome.

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Sat Mar 31, 2012 9:00 am
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
Oh snap. Just when I thought Grape and Peanut could finally catch a break from drama now that they have kittens. :lol:

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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
Spetacularity out of range!
Peanut kidnapped and tegan disappear!?

And.. and
angelusbr wrote:
that picture is so awsome.

AwwwwWWWW YEAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! *stays hoarse*

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Last edited by legendario13 on Sat Mar 31, 2012 10:22 am, edited 1 time in total.



Sat Mar 31, 2012 10:05 am
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
This is looking bad. (What happend in the story, not the picture. The picture looks good.)
I hope everyone figures out what is going on.

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Sat Mar 31, 2012 10:11 am
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES
Season III
Episode 10 – The Long Way Home
By VALERIO


1.
Sandwich House, Overview Grove, Babylon Gardens

The last time three police cars were stationing in front of this house, it had been during the threat of a madman to blow up half of the block with a bomb. That had seemed a very bad moment for the Sandwich family.
They had just discovered there were worse things than that.

Grape Jelly Sandwich was torn apart. She wanted to be down there, with her parents. She needed them now more than ever, not curling up inside her bed! Even the presence of her kittens was of scarce comfort. Right now, her five bundles were all that was left of the one who had just disappeared.
Peanut. Her beloved Peanut, her beloved dog, the father of their litter, had been missing for the whole day. All of the Gardens’ Police was searching for him, questioning everyone, birds included…
To no avail. Last time he had gotten out of home, he was going to buy some grocery. What had happened to him?!
“Grape…” she barely registered Fido’s voice. The only dog who knew the truth about her litter, about the magic that had allowed the miracle. The only dog who could truly understand her pain, for he too was a devoted cat-lover, a model for many pets in this regard, was sitting next to her, trying to appear in control.
Grape shook her head and asked again, as she had done so many times now, “Are you sure? He’s been…kidnapped?”
Fido nodded weakly. He remembered all too well when his best friend Fox had been kidnapped the first time. Fido was a puppy then, and he had felt just like Grape was feeling now. Then, years later, Fox was kidnapped again, and Fido had felt an outrage, a bloodlust he had barely contained.
All those emotions were back in full force now. Someone had kidnapped the neighborhood’s sweetest dog, the one everyone (except Bino and his lackeys) could call ‘friend’. Right now, Fido wanted to be out there, hot on pursuit, until he either fell down by exhaustion or would get his fangs on the throat of the responsible!
But he was a police dog. His duty was to his friend Grape, question her and help her out of this crisis. “They found traces of Narcolene™ on his collar. That stuff is like chloroform. PETA used it on Fox when they got him.”
There were many supposition running, but a comeback of the PETA sounded as the most believable. Kidnapping Peanut was just like them.
The problem was, currently that organization of fanatics had been scattered. Its former members couldn’t be tracked down one by one –not in a reasonable amount of time, and time was of the essence.
Fido shivered at the thought, but he must think that they would abandon Peanut somewhere far enough as to prevent him from returning. Meaning he’d be helpless, hurt, scared… Stop it stop it STOP IT! “We’ll find him, Grape,” Fido said, instead, managing to control his voice, ever the competent, reassuring officer. “We’ll find him. And knowing him, he’ll be running to you right now.”
Grape found herself nodding, but her pale smile didn’t reflect in her eyes. Her face fur was matted by her tears, her fur was in disarray, just like when she kept a vigil over Peanut when he spent a week in a coma…
She was curling protectively around her kittens, now the most precious thing she had. Especially Dayshaun, living memento of his father… “I know,” she whispered. “It’s just like him. He won’t give up.”
Fido even managed to smile encouragingly at her. “And so won’t we—“
The door opened. The Doberman Kevin, Fido’s colleague in the K-9 core unit formed by him and Sergeant Ralph, barged in. “There's news! Come down, Fido, now!”

Jill and Earl Sandwich were at work when they had gotten the news. In a moment, the world had collapsed against their shoulders.
Peanut gone? Kidnapped? It was…impossible! Not their beloved son, not…not him! It was like violating a nature’s rule.
The first culprit they could think of were, of course, Edward and Sara Richmond. Once, they had tried to fake a claim over Grape, since she had been their first pet, and now that she had been co-adopted by Martin Foster, the Gardens’ richest man, they wanted to squeeze him for money while taking her as ‘beloved’ hostage.
But, in the end, their plan had failed, and they had gone to prison…where they still were.
An acquaintance of them, then? A lackey who would take Peanut, this time, for ransom? No more finesse, no more Mr. Nice Dad, now we want the money and we want it all?
The police were still questioning them, and as of now there weren’t any tracks to follow.
“I have sent out all of my units,” Martin Foster said. The man was sitting on the couch in front of the Sandwiches’. They have better training than the ordinary police units, and my helicopter is covering the area around the Gardens. I’m covering any possible suspicion.” They could count on that: Martin was a good man, he ran the new Lucky Charm Grove for the Abandoned and the Ferals shelter, he would give his life for humankind’s best friends. But he was also a control freak, a paranoid. Right now he was also using his own private detective service to work alongside the police.
What he had found out so far wasn’t encouraging:

- Carl Coppers, the long-deceased PETA member, had no family or friends who would follow his example.
- Mac was still serving his sentence for animal abuse and criminal association with the Russian mafia.
- Thomas and Celia Milton had sworn on their lives that they’d rather cut off their hands than to seriously incur in Martin’s wrath with such an idiotic idea
- Eunice, Martin’s grandmother, wasn’t ruled out as well, but she was sincerely offended that he could think she would take a filthy animal as hostage and take care of it until the ransom was paid.

And that was the list of those Martin knew had a reason to kidnap Peanut. Otherwise, there was something else going on, and for the sake of him, Martin couldn’t imagine what—
The phone rang! The police had been fast in installing the tracking device. As instructed, Earl waited a couple of rings before he dialed the ON button. “Hello?” He listened for a moment, then his face darkened even more than before. He looked at Martin as if it was his fault for engaging the line and handed him the cordless. “It’s for you.”
Martin took the phone. “Hello?” He seriously hoped it was a breakthrough, or he’d kill personally the responsible for—
“They will not call for a ransom, Mr. Foster,” said a familiar voice. “They don’t want to bring Peanut back.”
It was then that Fido came.
---
The Fulcrum, Terrace High

Standing in front of the large window, looking in the direction of Babylon Gardens, the tall thin man contemplated the collar with a ‘7’-shaped tag hanging from it. His eyes were two pearls of a very deep blue, hard on an impassible face. “It seems we have a problem in common, Mr. Foster.”
“How can you say that, Gottschalk?” said Martin through the speakerphone. A moment later, a *click* announced that the speakerphone had been turned on at the other end as well.
The man went at his desk, then sat down. “I assume there is at least a laptop with wi-fi connection where you are now, am I correct?”
After a moment of hesitation, a new voice came in. “This is Chief Commissary Norton of the Babylon Gardens’ Police Department. Do you have a videochat active, Mr. Gottschalk?”
“I surely have: SecFeed, channel #THARRG.” A moment later, the connection was on.
Gottschalk’s eyes went to his keyboard. “This is a feed from our restroom area of this afternoon. Please observe.” He ran the recording.
In the crowded level that had been converted in one whole sanitary facility, there was the owner of that now empty collar: a Maine Coon cat.
“That’s Tegan,” Jill said, puzzled yet understanding what she was going to see, and fearing it was too much for her right now…
But the camera didn’t have a heart, it just kept showing the images in high definition. Tegan exiting a stall. Tegan going to a sink…and a man approaching her, a young Asian American. He carried a big bag. His movements were casual, just another visitor for the Doll Festival. Tegan had no reason to suspect.
From the live camera, Jill was whispering, “Please. Watch out, girl, please, turn and—“ She let out a short gasp when the man sprayed a puff of aerosol from something that resembled a perfume bottle. Tegan’s surprise looked almost comical…before she collapsed into the man’s arms. It had happened too quickly to raise suspects. The man quickly removed the collar and tossed it under the sinks, so that the built-in GPS would tell the system his victim was still inside the building.
Instead, he brought her to the nearest stall. A camera in the stall filmed the man putting Tegan into his bag and then walk away calmly, in perfect control, as if she weighed nothing.
Camera after camera followed the man walking toward the elevators’ pillar, taking one down to the parking lot. From there, he just went out after flashing his IDs to the scanners. His car, a white ‘Uno’ Fiat, proceeded along the road until it met the last of the cameras installed.
Then it was over.
At that point, the data about the kidnapper ran through the screen. “Jerome Takato, born New York, age 33, unemployed, no criminal record. He used to work as real estate agent before the crisis cut his job. He lived off his savings before he filed for bankruptcy. A honest guy who turned desperate enough to accept this job. Since he’s not in the system, my own system didn’t launch alarms.” Gottschalk looked at the man with…admiration. “A good plan. And it tells me something about the culprit.”
“How so?” Norton asked “And why would be Peanut Butter Sandwich involved?”
Gottschalk nodded. “After investigating, I discovered someone who could be useful.” The man stood up and left the chair. A moment later, a golden retriever sat on it. His expression was one of unbridled fear. “I know who did it, Mrs. Sandwich. It’s my fault, I should’ve put that on our records, security around Tegan and I would’ve been tighter, but she, Tegan, didn’t want me to, she thought I was being paranoid and now she’s gone…”
“Elliot? What are you talking about?” Until a moment before, Jill wasn’t sure she could be more terrified. She was being proven wrong.
Gottschalk put a hand over the poor dog’s shoulder. Elliot forced himself to relax into a coherent speaking. “Tegan and I had a run-in with this feral gang, the Fanged Teeth. We escaped their clutches with barely our fur on. I believed the police had reported them as goners, but they told Mom that their leader, Fang, was never found either dead or alive.
“You see, Mr. Sandwich: these Fanged Teeth used to lure ferals into their gang only to smuggle them to the Pet Fight Clubs’ cartels, in Mexico. Wanted to do the same with us, and because of us their business was busted. I am sure it was them, that’s why they got Tegan!”
---
“And they got Peanut as a sort of bonus, to get at me,” Martin said, more to himself than to the others. “I busted their business as well when I had the old shelter closed. This is personal.” He felt sick. This was even worse than he could imagine. Gottschalk was right: Peanut and Tegan were goners…unless…
“There is a chance,” Martin said to his business partner. “If they wanted them dead as a demonstration of their power, they wouldn’t have wasted time in kidnapping them.”
“I agree on that, Mr. Foster.”
Martin shook his head. “They want to smuggle them to Mexico, to complete the work that had been interrupted then.”
“In this case, we remain at a serious disadvantage,” Gottschalk said in that cold, analytical way that had contributed to make him the world’s richest man. “Mexico is a big country, with too many hideouts for a pet fight club. We wouldn’t know where to look for them.”
At this point, Martin Foster smiled that ferocious expression he showed when he was ready to spill blood.
“Quite the contrary, my partner. I have an idea where to start.”

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Sat Mar 31, 2012 12:38 pm
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
Being close friends with Martin/Gottschalk sure is dangerous gig. On the positive side Peanut is captured along side with Tegan, so they can exchange gossips and talk about cute kittens and all that good stuff. Also now would be the best time to put that academy training to use ;)

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Sat Mar 31, 2012 1:59 pm
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
México...
This is getting better every time.

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Sat Mar 31, 2012 3:43 pm
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
I don't know what I want to see more: Peanut putting his training to use, or Grape storming the place and showing them why she's the most feared pet in Babylon Gardens. They'd never know what hit them! :lol:


Sat Mar 31, 2012 4:10 pm
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
grape will show no mercy, this is why she has claws. Tegan and peanut will have to do some awesome teaming up and then fight their way out. It is going to be fantastic. thanks for the epic update Valerio!

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Sat Mar 31, 2012 4:58 pm
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
Grape's wrath shall be legendary.

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Sat Mar 31, 2012 8:19 pm
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
lol mind explaining what happened? I only skimmed some of this fanfic, because if given time to read it all, i'll still have to read another chapter after as fast as valerio's creativity sparks up


Sat Mar 31, 2012 11:35 pm
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
given time to read it all, you'd have 7 new chapters to read. but it's worth it, go read.

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Sat Mar 31, 2012 11:39 pm
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
2.
District Attorney’s offices, River Ridge

When the device in his pocket buzzed, Alexander Kostantin just stopped dictating a letter to his secretary and said instead, “Miss Paulson, I got an urgent call. Would you please wait outside? And fetch me one of those special coffees of yours, I really need it.” On that particular, he was sincere. He was already beginning to feel a headache building.
The District Attorney took the phone from his pocket. “Hello?”
A series of bleeps answered him, before the display told him CONNECTION SECURE. Then he said, “I was waiting your call.”
“Good to hear you too, Kostya,” Martin Foster said.
The man kept a low voice, hoping no one would interrupt him now. It would be quite embarrassing to explain this to his superiors… “I suppose you tried with everyone you knew of?”
“Correct. I suspect a smuggling operation to Mexico now, courtesy of our old friends. Kostya, I need a hint, only one.”
Alexander couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. It went against many things in his field, and for how much he respected Foster, he wouldn’t normally break the law with an information that, for all they knew, could lead to a bloodbath without even being useful to the rescue of Peanut Butter Sandwich and Tegan Jackson…
Problem was, Martin was business partner with Raimund Gottschalk now. And many were the politicians who bedded Gottschalk. At this point, it was only a question of time before the big shots asked him to help themselves…
Kostantin repeated that to himself, to justify the fact that he wanted to do all he could to help those animals and the heck with the consequences. “There is this restaurant.” He gave out the name. “It is run by one of the old bosses, one with the most connections. His name is Sergej Gorky, but they call him Ottsa, the Father. Shady individual, but the best source of information you could ask for in the underground. He is also very powerful: despite what Mac had said about him, he was the only one to laugh us off and avoid arrest. Martin, I told you already, you don’t want to cross those kind of people.”
“Wrong, Kostya.”
“Uh?”
They crossed me. *click*” The line went dead
---
Babylon Gardens Police Station

Horace Norton was frustrated.
This was supposed to be his operation, but the moment Herr Gottschalk had spoken with the right brasses, he had been de facto been bypassed. He hated that, this guy made Foster seem a shy fanboy… But it was also true that Horace admired the nazi: Gottschalk had done in a couple of hours what the system would have done in a week –to be optimist.
“Gentlepets,” Gottschalk was saying in front of the full K-9 corps of the Gardens, plus his own best security forces and the LCG human/animal forces. It was quite a display, one rare to see. The tension was strong, both men and dogs wanted action, they wanted it bad. God help the unfortunate who would incur in their wrath.
“I have just talked with the highest authorities in the Mexican Government. They have given permission for a selected human/K-9 force to participate in an operation inside the Mexican border. Said operation will be undercover, which means that you will be autonomous but it also meant that whatever happens to any of you, it will stay a secret and it will stay in Mexico.
“As of now, we are gathering information to our destination. To avoid losing time, I have asked the most reliable expert of the police force to select and guide a proper team, a team that is expected to be ready to leave at the shortest notice. Question?”
No one uttered a word. Everyone stood sharp at full attention.
Gottschalk nodded. He stepped aside, leaving room to the aforementioned expert: Budweiser!
If the other dogs were excited for the mission, Bud was excited and angry. He had spent the last hours looking out for his son Peanut. And he was ready to walk all the way to Mexico if necessary. “All right, you bunch of sorry excuses of dogs: I know all of you, I trained many of you and I expect you to give the best and only the best. You fail, you better stay down there and kill yourself with tequila, I hope I made myself clear.
“Now, I am going to tell who is coming with me to rescue Peanut Butter Sandwich and Tegan Jackson and kick some baddy butt. I won’t accept any objection. Those ones called, step upon the stand.
“Sergeant Ralph.” The German Shepherd walked until he stood at Bud’s right flank.
“Officer Fido.” Fido walked and took the left flank.
“Officer Kevin.” The Doberman’s ruby eyes flashed with impatience. He walked and stood close to Fido.
“Private Officer Hannibal Bates. You will be my second-in-command.” The black Alsatian took position next to Ralph.
“Private Officer Sigmund Follett.” Siggy almost ran to his position next to Kevin.
“Private Officers Kevin Fitzgerald Marsh and Colombina.” The man and the giant Tibetan mastiff took their position in a second line behind the first.
“Private Officers Natasha Alekseeva and Diego.” The woman and the male Siberian husky took their place.
“And last but not least, Privates Duke Walters and Zara Walters.” When the two soldier dogs had taken their position, Bud turned, and they stepped backward until he could address them. “These are the canons I based my selection on:
Sergeant Ralph is an excellent leader for a detached team, and knows the legals of a mission. Officer Fido knows Peanut better than anyone else, and that could turn useful, while he and Officer Kevin complete the team in the most efficient way.
“Officer Hannibal spent most of his life in the Pet Fighting circuit. He knows the organization from the inside his knowledge is precious. Officer Follett is the best one could ask for in terms of tracking and pursuit over long distances.
“Kevin Marsh is a fine sniper and he was USSOCOM and that makes him another precious resource for special operation, while Colombina has been trained to fight large ferals. Natasha Alekseeva is a former Spetznaz and a highly-trained combatant in closed environment, and her dog is equally trained.
“Our new friend, Duke, is a military dog. He had hoped to spend a nice, relaxing weekend frolicking, instead of serving his country in the Middle East like he has done so far, and instead he volunteered for this mission. He knows how guerrilla works, so when he says something we better listen to him, me included. Same thing goes for Zara, she used to be scout and guerrilla herself and, according to Private Duke here, she knows already more than the rest of you mutts and apes should. Now, I want you to eat and drink and get some rest until we get the green light.” He saluted smartly, immediately imitated by the other.”
“I can’t believe the Pentagon allowed you to use their dogs in this way,” Norton was whispering to Gottschalk, as they too and the rest of the assembled animals and humans saluted.
“I called in a favor, since I provided them with the latest technology installed on their drones,” the tall man whispered back. “Among other things.”
“Do you think you could get us a couple of patrol bikes?”
“Shame on you, Chief. I am a man of honorable principles.”
---
The Red Corner Bar and Grill, River Ridge

“And how may I help you, Sir?” the waitress said. Her words were formal for a customer. Her eyes were hard like stone when he pronounced them.
Martin looked around and said, “Table for two will do.”
The woman led him to a table, far from the door, while an eerie silence filled the atmosphere. Martin noticed that the other ‘regulars’ were disposed so that, in case of necessity, they could always turn the intruder into a lead-loaded pulp and with some discretion.
“I’ll have a mineral water to start, thank you,” Martin said, showing his trademark smile to the woman. She scoffed and left.
“You could ask for something better, being this the last day of your life,” said a voice from behind him. At the same time, the cold metal of a gun was pressed against his temple.
Martin went rigid, didn’t move a muscle. “Hello, Ottsa. We meet at last. Mac told me so many nice things about you.”
“Oh, and you wanted my autograph?” An old man, about 70, walked to the other side of the table. If you had met him in a casual encounter, you would’ve shrugged him off as a Mr. Nobody in his golden years of retirement. Mac said that those who did such a mistake when dealing with him didn’t survive said mistake.
As Gorky sat down, Martin said, “I came here for information, and I heard you are a reliable source.” He smiled. His eyes did not.
The Russian boss gestured to the waitress. She went to the bar and a moment later came back with two glasses of Whiskey. “I so hate the old stereotypes,” Gorky said. “And I hate Vodka as well. Would you believe it?” He raised his glass and toasted. Martin did the same. They both drank. “It’s good that you trust your host, Mr. Foster. I heard you’re not one to turn your back on anyone.”
“I trust the fact that you’re going to enjoy killing me with your own hands and not with such a…feminine subtlety. You’re old school, Sergej.”
The old man nodded in acknowledgment. “That I am, Martin. May I call you Martin?”
“You know I like it. Now, I came here to do business with you, not to get myself killed. And since you want to have that final pleasure, would you mind telling your friend here to remove his gun from my head? Please?”
A man standing by the door checked the road and signaled the ‘all clear’ to his boss –no vehicles parked, no suspect movements, no cops or feds. Sergej had another of his henchmen to search Martin for tape recorders, hidden weapons, mikes and Bulletproof vests. When the search proved fruitless, only then Gorky seemed to relax. “My, you must be desperate if you come here unarmed and without protection. I am intrigued. Please, tell me what business of yours is this. I may treat you with respect before killing you for spoiling my business in that shelter.”
Martin’s gaze met the Russian’s without wavering. “As if you lived off that meager business alone.”
“Please, it’s just a question of principles. Just like you, I like to be in control. And just like you, I don’t like it when someone takes something from me.”
Martin nodded. “Point. Sorry.”
“No problem. Now, your business? You said you wanted information.”
“A dog and a cat. One from Babylon, the other from Terrace. Kidnapped. I am fairly sure you provided human and mechanical resources for the operation.”
“And you’re ‘fairly sure’ because..?”
“Because you made the mistake of having Peanut Butter Sandwich kidnapped. You knew you couldn’t get my own pets so you chose a fairly easier target: the dog I co-adopted. It’s either you or one of your associates.”
Sergej grinned like a fox. “And what if you’re right? Do you think you can buy yourself out of this situation? I could just let you beg for mercy and then kill you.” The man took a gun from his jacket, aimed it at his ‘guest’. “Now I am intrigued. What do you think you can do, rich man?”
Martin…smiled. “Check my wallet.”
Sergej’s eyes half-closed with suspicion. “Didn’t I just tell you that you can’t buy your way out? I already move more money than you do with your pathetic shelter.”
Martin clucked. “Now you offend me, Ottsa. What makes you think I have mere money to offer?”
The man gestured with his head. The henchman with the gun fished the wallet from Martin’s jacket than tossed to his boss. Without lowering his gun, Sergej took the wallet. “The last attempt of a desperate man. Let’s see what could your ‘offer’ be, just for the fun of—“ while talking, he had opened the wallet.
Martin closed his eyes.
The world turned, for a moment, in a blinding flash of whiteness! Sergej screamed with a comical shrill tone. “MY EYES! MY EYES!” and fell down, thrashing.
At that same moment, amidst the chaos, Martin grabbed the henchman’s armed hand and used it to shoot at the man by the door! A chop strike disarmed the henchman and Martin used the gun to shoot him! Gunshots filled the air. Martin rolled down on the floor and turned down the table to use it as a temporary shield… Not that it would have helped him much, given he was seriously outgunned and outnumbered—
A bullet hit his shoulder! He cursed mentally.
At that moment, beams of light filled the restaurant from the street. With a crash like thunder, a van crashed through the door, tail-wise! Before the defenders could elaborate this new elements, the van’s doors opened and in came armed guards with the LCG uniforms, in full war asset!
«Nobody move!» roared in Russian a stocky man with a long scar running over his left eye and along his face. He was accompanied by a sturdy Maremma Sheepdog. «You stay where you are and you get to live!»
Apparently, these were men of reason, for no one tried to resist.
The big dog went to assist Martin. “Are you all right, Mr. Foster?”
Martin didn’t even listen to him. He stood up and walked to Sergej, who was curling on the floor, holding his hands over his eyes, cursing in much undignified way. “Not bad for a rich man, eh? Now, now, Ottsa, where were we..?” Martin pointed his gun at the man’s temple. “Oh, yes. Are you religious?”
That had the effect of distracting the Russian from his predicament. “What? What are you saying? What have you done to me, you miserable—“
Martin grinned. “The effect of the magnesium flare is only temporary, though I wish I had set it to burn your face. Now, if you’re not the religious zealot kind of guy, you know that the only way to avoid a long and painful interrogation is to tell me what do you know about the kidnapping of those two pets. Now!”
“I’ll kill you for this!”
“At least you’ll be alive. The info, please.”
“I instructed my men to bring the pets to the Mayflower Marshaling Center.” Despite the pain and the unfavorable situation, he grinned in triumph. “Heh, by now they are truly unreachable. But don’t worry: though this was not my idea, I told my partners to send you a…memento of your beloved pet, when his existence will be done with.”
Martin didn’t explode, didn’t scream, didn’t shoot. His face became that terrible emotionless mask, the sign that he was at the peak of his rage.
The LCG owner bent over the Russian’s head and whispered something in his ear. Slowly, so that the other could understand every single words, no mistake.
Sergej Gorky paled like a corpse. “You would not dare—“
“I would and I will. You waged war on my family. I wage it on yours. So pray that my mission is successful, or…” He didn’t add anything else, he didn’t need to.
Martin stood up and went to the van. His men followed suit.

Only after the van had left the restaurant – or what was left of it – did the stocky security man ask, “Do you want me to see to that wound, sir?”
Martin took off his jacket –his bulletproof jacket, then checked the bruise. “Nah, I’m good. Just make sure this baby is fixed.” He handed the damaged suit to another soldier. “Thanks, Battista, you were a lifesaver, and right on time. Too bad for that wallet, though. It was a Gucci.”
The former FFL regarded Martin with a hard stare. “That was the craziest stunt I ever seen! What did you think you were doing? And since when did you turn into 007?”
“Please don’t start talking like Greyfield. With all due respect for the fallen, his lectures are one thing I won’t be missing. And as for the crazy stunt, one suggestion: when you and Callisto have some free time on your hands, go to Homer’s Dough, say you come on my name and you’ll get a king’s treatment and the story of how I saved the day back when I was a cook there. They should stil have my picture hanging.”
Callisto whistled. “Well, you surely led an interesting life.”
“Thank you, Cal. I was raised between an abusive father and the streets, before I won the lottery. I never forgot what it takes to survive. Add to that a basic military training, courtesy of Keith Greyfield, and voilà.” He chuckled. “Heh, I love it when they think I’m just another spoiled rich guy.”
“So,” Battista said, “What’s our next move?”
Martin’s face became serious. “Did you transmit the information to the Search and Rescue Team?”
“Yes. They are on their way to the helicopter.” The helicopter was the LCG’s Mil-Mi 26T. Ironically, Martin had bought it at a sale of the Russian Aeroflot company. With the auxiliary tanks mounted, it could cover up to 1,190 miles at 183 mph. “We expect takeoff at 23:30.”
“Good. Our job here is done, then. It’s all in the hands and paws of our team now.” At this point, it was simply useless to waste time in searching among all the possible routes the kidnappers could have taken.
It was time to go straight to Mexico!

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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
Ohhh, this is going to be a good episode, I can already tell. So. Much. Awesome. ^_^

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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
what happens in México stays in the tabloid newspapers!

be careful where you step in the sand or you may get burnt.

you are so right coatl gona be amazing.

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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
3.
Helipad, Lucky Charm Grove for the Abandoned and the Ferals

This was how it went, during a crisis.
No time for another choice.
No time for goodbyes.
No time for regrets.
They were dogs of police, dogs of security, dogs of war.
They had a mission: find two missing pets and bring them home, in the shortest time possible.
Those who stood behind could only watch, and pray.
For these missing pets, Peanut Butter Sandwich and Tegan Jackson, dog and cat, had been kidnapped and were on their way to Mexico. To become meat for the Pet Fight Club circuit, if not worse.
There was no time to think they could fail.
There was no thought they could fail.
Budweiser, formerly from the Babylon Gardens Police Force, watched his team getting aboard:
The core K-9 Unit from BGPF: Sergeant Ralph, Fido and Kevin
Two members from Terrace High Security Forces: Sigmund and Hannibal.
Two human/K-9 teams from the LCG: Kevin Fitzgerald Marsh (ex USSOCOM), with his dog the Tibetan Mastiff Colombina, and ex-Spetznaz Natasha Alekseeva with her husky partner Diego.
Two USMWDs, Duke Walters and his partner, the jackal Zara.

The Boxer Bailey, Duke’s colleague in the Army, saluted smartly the team as they went aboard. The other pets and humans assembled did the same, silently wishing the best to these heroes. All of them had wanted to get aboard the Mil-Mi 26T and run to the rescue, but like the others she too had to concede to this Budweiser’s experience in selecting the team.
Not to mention there was another reason for her to stay behind…

Sandwich House, Babylon Gardens, two hours earlier

“I will go with them. Whoever they pick up for the mission, I will go. And no one will stop me.” Thus spoke Grape, sitting on the couch, facing her parents. Not her ‘owners’, but her parents, the most important humans of her life, those for whom she and Peanut would give their lives.
“This is impossible, girl,” Earl Sandwich said, shaking his head. “You have no training, you are too involved, and this mission is very risky as it is, without the tea having to take care of you as well.”
The lavender-colored cat answered with a look that would’ve scared a tiger. “I am street-savy, I spent enough time as a feral to know how to move. I am determined to save my husband, my mate, the father of our litter…” she felt relieved that she could mention freely that argument in front of them, for they knew and understood “…and my Peanut would move the mountains to get back to me. You know he would. You couldn’t hold him back,” her eyes filled with tears of rage, her teeth bared. In this moment, one could understand why the intelligent pets of the neighborhood would never mess with her. “You won’t hold me back.”
“And what if something happens to you?” Jill said. “Are you not thinking of your kittens? They may have already—“ she couldn’t go further, realizing she was about to say lost their father.
Jill bit her lower lip. Here she was, already thinking the worst, while her daughter was ready to do what she wanted to do, believing with all of herself that things would go well!
The truth was, Jill had already seen Peanut almost dying at the hands of that monstrous dog, the year before. She had practically raised that happy pup since he was a bundle that could stay in one hand. She had sworn to do her best to protect him, and she had failed. She should have gone to the market and buy those groceries not send him because she was…busy…
Those thoughts were interrupted by the soft grasp of Grape’s paw over her hands. “I’m sorry, little one,” Jill said –and heck how she hated to be the ‘weak woman’ of this absurd tableau! “I don’t want to lose you too.”
Grape purred to calm her, the vibration transmitting to her paws. “Mom, everything will be okay, I promise. Honest. I don’t want to lose you and Dad, I don’t want to lose my kittens, I…” she gulped. “I want my Peanut back. Please don’t hate me.”
It was then that Earl bent forward and hugged her. “We don’t hate you, girl. In fact, we’re proud of you. You are being the bravest tiger, now, just like you were when you defended him from that monster dog. Just promise us that you will not risk…” he couldn’t just say your life. The mere idea brought ice to his stomach and made him want to keep her here at all costs. “Just promise us you’ll come home whatever happens.” He looked at her straight in the eyes. “Peanut would move the mountains to get back to you. But he would never ask you to get hurt uselessly.”
Grape nodded, her tears gone now. “I promise.”

And while the family exchanged those last rituals, Budweiser, in the kitchen, was saying to Bailey, “I want you to organize a watchdog team. Though I know I can trust the neighborhood’s pets to help this family, things are gonna get ugly here too, believe me.”
“How so?” The Boxer asked.
Bud nodded. “These Fanged Teeth had it only with Elliot and Teagan. But the Mafia had it with Foster and Peanut got caught in the fire. Foster is bound to stir some murky waters to get information, and that will cause retaliation. I worked long enough in the blue to know that. It’s up to you, lady, to make sure the Sandwich family is protected by pros 24/7 until we’re back with Peanut and Tegan. I don’t want other case of kidnapping or worse, civilians hurt, in the meantime. Do you think you can do it?”
Bailey nodded with a grim expression. “Leave it to me, chief. Whoever tries to break into the neighborhood will be sorely sorry.”
Bud knew she wasn’t boasting, and he was happy for that…

Helipad, Lucky Charm Grove. Now.

The door closed. Dogs and humans sat down and strapped themselves to their seats. The helicopter could carry up to 90 human troops and 44,090 lbs of cargo. Its wide belly had been provided with stretchers for everyone plus two more for their quarry. The cargo included all individual weapons and reconnaissance gadgets and individual medical kits. And an all-terrain VBL Light Armored Vehicle.
“What took you so long?” Grape asked to Budweiser, after he had made sure everything was in order.
The dog strapped down to his seat. “We were busy giving autographs to the fangirls.”
Fido, sitting next to Grape, put a paw over her shoulder. “I know how you feel. Heck, Peanut is not my boyfriend, but I’m ready to—“
Grape nodded to him. “I know. I will be a good kitty and obey your orders. Just promise me that, when it comes to kicking baddy butt, I’ll be there too.”
Fido winked. “Nah, you’ll be too busy cuddling with your hubby. You still can play the tough kitty, but in his presence you show you’re just a big softie.”
The other dogs snickered. Grape grinned to Fido. “You are gonna die for this.”
The rotor’s noise increased.

The helicopter took off.
“I am sincerely impressed, Mr. Foster,” the tall thin man said to the one standing at his left. “For a private citizen who’s only now building the right connections, you own an impressive arsenal.”
Martin shrugged. “I knew it would turn useful one day or the other. And you know? I hate to be right, sometimes.”
---
Bud unstrapped, soon imitated by the others. “Okay, gang, we’ve got some hours to kill and we got our own toilet aboard, snacks and a refueling-in-flight. This will be a nonstop flight until our final destination, once our friends at intel can make out what it should be…or, unless our dearest friend here, Psycho, can tell us something in regard.” The dog turned to the black-furred Alsatian. “The stage is yours.”
Psycho nodded. He stood up and produced a roll of something that resembled a plastic film from his utility belt. “Please take your screens.” When the others did the same, he turned on what was a graphene display. He tapped the screen to activate Google Earth, and after getting the coordinates, he transmitted the information to the other screens.
The screens, color models that Gottschalk Technology & Entertainment had yet to release on the market, showed a city at the coordinates 27′24″15N,103′0″28W, in the heart of the country.
“This,” Hannibal said, “is Isla de la Paz. It was a Mayan settlement built on an island in the middle of a lake, as the name suggests, back when this was a fertile region. It remained so even when the European colonizers conquered the island and built a powerful colony.
“In 1900, a seismic event drained the river, and the soon the colony fell victim of the desert. The last inhabitants, a family of two and their pets, died there on 1901.
“In 1946, Andreas Delasangre, a real estate agent, discovered that the water hadn’t gone far after the earthquake. It had just been displaced into a natural artesian aquifer. He then bought the land, built a series of wells to get the water running again with him as the only owner of the aqueduct, and Isla de la Paz was rebuilt. Today, it is one of the major touristic centers in this country, much like Las Vegas in the United States.
“And, much like the archetype, it is a city of much light and much darkness. I know it because I was born and raised there.” He paused to let the information sink in, before going on.
“The one reason I believe our search should start from Isla de la Paz is that it is the capital of the Mexican Pet Fight circuit. The most wealthy tourists come here and pay hefty money to assist to these bloody shows. The local authorities are just an extension of the Delasangre family. The national government is impotent because, by law and by evidence, nothing is happening despite WWF and other animal rights organizations collecting a lot of said evidence. The problem is, not one PFC was ever busted. Whenever the authorities got a hint of a raid, they dismantled the Club and hid everything. After a while the government stopped even trying.” He paused again. “It is my suspicion, although we will never be told, that Gottschalk had it so easy at organizing this S&R because the government is ready to try everything to stop this cartel, even an external aid. And this, mis amigos, means we have another responsibility here. And I am ready to take it.
“My mother was bred to be a fighter, I was bred for the same purpose. If I am with you today is because I was moved to another club outside of Isla, where the Police could make a raid. I’m sorry to add this new weight on your shoulders, but I owe it at least to my mother’s memory that Delasangre pays for his crimes.”
A long moment of silence followed. One by one, the others nodded to each other. Then Budweiser stood up and held Hannibal’s paw in his.
“We are going to do just that. When we’re done, Delasangre will be sorry for kidnapping our boys and for running his bloody business. But now, please, let’s go back to the mission, shall we?”
The Alsatian nodded. “Yes. Sorry. As I was saying, there is no better place in all Mexico to hide our friends. Not to mention the irony of the situation, if Grape will forgive me.”
Grape, reluctantly, nodded. She wished she could be in control like the others. She almost didn’t hear herself saying, “A rich human would die to protect me and Peanut, rich humans will pay to see him suffer. How…appropriate.” Her claws dug in her thigh. “We shall be on time, shall we?” She asked Bud. God, to see him was so much like looking at Peanut when her beloved doggie would grow older and stronger. But he wasn’t older and stronger now, he needed her, the poor dear! And she needed him so much!
“Everything will be all right, you’ll see,” said a voice in front of her.
Grape’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. That voice belonged to—
The cat bit her lip just in time before she pronounced the name.
“Grape, are you all right?” Fido asked her with a puzzled tone. The dog looked in the direction her eyes had gone, but saw nothing but the wall.
Grape shook her head. “Well, given the circumstances, yes. At least we’re doing something…”
Fido nodded, then gave his attention back to Hannibal. He couldn’t of course expect poor Grape to be completely focused right now. He’d explain everything later, there was time.
But grape wasn’t being distracted by her fears, right now.
She was being distracted by the sight of…a female Pomeranian dog with an Eye of Ra tag hanging from under her thick scruff, and whose eyes were shining with an eerie green light.
“Hello, my friend,” Tarot said.

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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
Oh no, she forgot to bring her broom? I'm so hyped for this chapter!

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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
Coatl_Ruu wrote:
Ohhh, this is going to be a good episode, I can already tell. So. Much. Awesome. ^_^

did you expect anything else?

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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
Another rescue episode ahead! Unusual twist that Grape actually came with them instead of staying to take care of her kittens. At least they will hear of their adventure.

Nevermore isn't always going to look after Peanut but will this affect his character when he visit Volant later on?

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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
I was wondering the same about nevermore, but im too exited about what is going to happen later like to worry about it.

I Need to be patient just like them, or I will lose control.

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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
4.
Aboard the LCG helicopter on its way to Isla de la Paz

“Please, keep your mouth shut and think what you want to say, or the others will think you are suffering a nervous breakdown.”
Grape Jelly Sandwich gulped. She was fairly sure she was pretty psyched out already… But then, Tarot, like her friend and housemate Sabrina, was a telepath. <What are you doing here? Why can’t the others see you?>
Tarot nodded. “The others cannot see me because I am using my talent to keep myself cloaked to their senses.”
<Of course. Silly me. Sorry.>
“As for your first question: Peanut Butter is my friend too, and before that he was my boyfriend. I love him Grape. I couldn’t stay behind and let you exposed to a potential life-threatening danger. Peanut would never forgive me, and I would never forgive myself if I didn’t try my best to save him.”
Grape smiled. <Thank you. It means a lot, and I am sure he will be happy to know you’re with him as well… But say,> Grape frowned. <Why can’t you just zap him out of his prison or something? I remember you and Sabrina should be able to do it. Right?>
Tarot lowered her head. “Such extensive use of our talent is not allowed on the mortal plane. Please try to understand.”
Grape’s eyes became hard. <Right now, I’m trying not to tell you what I think of these rules you live by. It’s Peanut we’re talking, not some stupid game! Peanut, the dog your precious spirits allowed to sire our kittens! With your mediation! And now you tell me you can’t even find him?!>
Tarot rubbed her temple. “Please, don’t think so loud, you’re giving me a headache. And, Grape, before I try to explain what I meant, would you just answer one question?”
<Long as it’s reasonable.>
“Didn’t I just tell you that I’m here to help Peanut? Didn’t I just tell you that I still love him? Do you think I wouldn’t happily break those rules if it served to bring him back home, safe and sound, right NOW?!”
Grape’s eyes flattened reflexively under the psychic outburst. Alarms started to sound in the helicopter as the transport vibrated.
“Whoa!” Said the pilot through the speaker. “Looks like we got a draft. Sorry, guys, but as you can notice, I’m back in control.”
“Sorry,” said Tarot to Grape. “As I was saying, the reason Sabrina and I cannot do things easy for everyone is because others would do it. Try to imagine, what kind of world would it be if every telepath and mage started crossing the line to their own gain or on someone else’s account? If I started helping Peanut out using my talents at their full extent, how long would it be, before you asked me to watch over your family’s lives, to decide what to do and what to do not, who to punish and—“
<I get it!> Grape interrupted her. Then she mentally touched her fingers. <Wow, I…I didn’t imagine the extent of your…responsibilities. Sorry.>
The Pomeranian smiled. “You’re an anguished mate and mother, and I understand you perfectly, my dear. But I promise I will help you as best as I can. Peanut will be soon in your arms.”
<Thank you.> She then decided to give her attention back to Fido. “How long until our destination?”
“Little more than ten hours at the current speed. But we won’t be landing at Isla de la Paz. That would be too dangerous.”
Budweiser nodded. “The plan is to reach our destination as tourists, in separate groups, under the supervision of our…chaperons.” He indicated Kevin F. Marsh and Natasha. “We’ll be doing our searching once in the city. There are too many PFCs to cover if we move in one single group, according to Hannibal’s memory. And that hasn’t been updated in years. Our priority is to collect information, and that means finding members of the Fanged Teeth and make them talk. To go from the heliport to Isla, we’ll be using a bus the local Police provided us.”
Grape nodded. “But…won’t it be a bit suspicious the presence of a humongous helicopter with the Lucky Charm Grove logo?”
Hannibal grinned. He went to a monitor screen and turned it on. “This is an external camera. Check it out, chica.”
Grape did and… “Wow!”

Instead of its traditional blue with the golden paw and letters logo, the large Mil-Mi 26t was now entirely white with a red scarlet logo which read PROFESSIONAL PET TRAVELS – The Best You Want For Your Best Friends!

“Gottschalk had these graphene color screens mounted on the ‘copter.” He showed her the mini flexible screen in his paws. “Neat, eh?”
“I’m more concerned about this ‘tourist’ thing. Who will be bringing our weapons and stuff?”
“The Police will take care of that,” Marsh said. “They will bribe Isla’s Police into smuggling them. Not the most ethical thing to do, but again, we’re talking about a highly corrupted system here and, officially, we’re not here. Piece of cake.”
“Okay,” Bud said. “Now let’s all try to get some sleep. Tomorrow’s gonna be big day. Fun, adventure, pretty girls and the stuff.” He sat down. Sigmund said, “You like to boss humans around, eh?”
Peanut’s biological father flashed him a mischievous grin. “Love it all the way!”
Looking at him, Grape wondered how much it cost him to keep such a brave face. She knew how much he loved Peanut. Was Bud just trying to control his fears, or was he sure Peanut could take care of himself somehow?
To whomever is listening, up or down there: keep an eye on him, or you’re gonna be SO sorry!
---
And, indeed, there was someone listening, up there. Much up out there...
"Are you going to listen to her?" the blue-feathered griffin asked, while studying Grape's image in the sun-sized crystal ball.
The serpentine dragon who was holding the sphere in its clawed paw nodded. "Implicit Benevolence Rule, Pete," Spirit Dragon answered. Her icy tone suggested this was not the time to joke about it. "Peanut and his family are in grave danger. As part of the game, they are not to be put in danger of life, and I will make sure of it... Respecting the rules, of course."
"Of course," he said, expecting to see her spoiling the game once again and getting banned for the rest of eternity...
---
Since leaving the US border, the landscape had become a dull, endless expanse of sand and rocks. Even the moonlight couldn’t mitigate the desolation of this land.
Not to mention that it was difficult to find anything alluring when you were on your way to who-knew-where…and quite probably, to your death.
Tegan was a cheerful cat, usually. But, honestly, there was nothing to be cheerful about. Her past had caught up to her, and even worse, another innocent had been involved –heh, it was just like her luck, that a dog would be involved in her mess…
“Don’t you find it really beautiful?” Peanut said, his eyes glued to the window. “It’s just like like Mars –well, Moon aside. And the bushes. And the coyotes—“
“Peanut, do you have an idea where we are?!” She snapped. “We could never see our homes again! We can’t get in touch with our families! I’m hungry, thirsty and…” and she couldn’t think of what to add first from the endless list of lamentations. “…And we’re naked!”
Peanut turned and leaned his back against the iron bars. “We’ll be fine, you’ll see.” There was sadness in his eyes, though he did try to smile. “Right now, Grape must be coming to our rescue. And Uncle Martin must be doing quite a scene to track us. And then—“
“We’re too far away by now,” the Maine Coon interrupted him. She hated to feel so low, so…resigned, but this time it was different. The Fanged Teeth were out for her blood, they would take no chances this time. She was sure it was them, she had understood that the moment they had crossed the border. Smuggled into Mexico, to become prey in some Pet Fight Club for the perverted fun of a bunch of cruel tourists.
That was the only reason she and Peanut were still alive. It wasn’t mercy, but another step toward gory vengeance. “They can’t find us…”
Peanut stood where he was, looking down. “They will.” He started tracing figures with a finger on the cold pavement. “That, or we will go home. So there.”
Tegan sighed. She wanted to say she was sorry for breaking his hopes, but…but how could she believe they could make it? Even if they miraculously broke out and ran away from their captors, they’d still have a foreign country to cross. They didn’t know anyone they could trust. *sigh* Perhaps, in the old times, back when Halftail led her gang, she could have met a friend of a friend, in one of those rarest, convenient occurrences…
There you go, girl. First you beat down Peanut for being optimistic then you start thinking in terms of miracles yourself, brava! “You’re right.”
Peanut lifted his ears. “Hm?”
Tegan went and sat next to him. “I said you are right. But we will not wait for the others to find us: We must find a way to escape from here, to seek help. To go home. We can do it.”
Peanut started wagging, his fears at once put aside –good ol’ mutt, she thought, always ready to catch up on the sunny side of life! It was true that ‘you can’t keep a good dog down’. “What’s your plan?”
“You, of course.”
Peanut cocked his head. “Uh?”
“You were trained at the Academy, right?”
“Yes, but it was more of a crash course, and I didn’t even—“
“Peanut Butter Sandwich, I’m trying to be optimistic here, so don’t ruin it.”
“Sorry.”
Tegan nodded. “Now, as I was saying: crash course or not, you are stronger than you were when you left. You know something about fighting, and since you never joined the force, I assume our captors don’t think you could take them by surprise.
“It will be all about speed, Peanut: we’ll have this one chance to run for it, or we will be closed in a cell until they decide we’re ready to become ready meal for the arena.”
Peanut nodded, as determination grew stronger in him. He was like that: give him a purpose, an objective to focus on, and he would carry on the task. The Academy had taught him that, at least. His father had taught him that…
Peanut turned his head, and there he was: Budweiser, in his blue K-9U jacket, looking sternly at him.

And he was no longer on a train, but on the training fields at the Hunters Academy. He was on his knees, under the scrutiny of his peers while Bud just looked down at him like the teacher he was.
“Is that the best you can do, grunt?” Bud asked. “Stand up!”
Peanut stood up. He felt –correction, he was covered with bruises. He was sure he had a broken bone or two, too…
But he stood up and stood on attention, panting, but not faltering, looking straight in the eye the human who had so many times beaten him.
“You know what to do, grunt,” Budweiser said “and that is half the job. But you still don’t know how to do it! You are sloppy, you are trying to imagine what move you should do apply. And believe me,” his eyes went to all of the cadets of Peanut’s team. Those who were snickering over Peanut’s repeated failures became dead serious at once. “There is nothing like a handbook in a fight for your life. You must concede to your instincts, combine them with your knowledge, letting the attack come by itself. Because the only thing you must see in your adversary is his weak points, not his fighting tactics.
“Don’t care about a baddy’s next move, because what you have to do is to take the initiative, hit them where it hurts! And then hit again until you’re sure you’re at an advantage: only then can you allow yourself the luxury of fighting again or fleeing, because another thing you must remember is that fleeing is no cause of dishonor if it allows you to fight another day.
“So, cadet Peanut Butter Sandwich, what will you do with a man confronting you with a weapon?”
Peanut looked up at the man…


“…I know what to do.” He spoke those words with a cold determination, something that, for those who knew him was almost unnatural to see in him. Once again, like one year before, he was set up to do everything in his power to help Tegan and to get back home. “I will be with my family again.”
The cat next to him was impressed. When Grape told her how much Peanut had changed since those days when he was only a silly manic puppy, Tegan used to tell her friend she was making fun of her.
Now she could see how true were those words. Tegan leaned against him, just content to feel…protected, safe—
“Looks like you got it at last, Nutty,” said a voice that made the dog turn all of a sudden – causing Tegan to crumple to the ground – and grab the bars in the attempt of leaning out his head, while he was wagging happily. “Never! Is that really you? You’re not a ghost?!”
A beam of moonlight illuminated a corner of the cargo wagon. Just enough to allow a black feathered head, a beak and an eye like a black pearl to be distinguished, the rest of the bird hidden in the shadows. “Flesh, feathers and goodwill, my dear,” Nevermore the raven said. “After all, who else is best designated to keep an eye on you?”

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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
Keep going, keep going....
I want to see whats peanut made of

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Mon Apr 02, 2012 10:15 am
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
I can't wait to see what Tegan, Peanut, and Never can do!

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Mon Apr 02, 2012 11:14 am
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
Zukio wrote:
I can't wait to see what Tegan, Peanut, and Never can do!

Destroy the Earth, maybe.

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Mon Apr 02, 2012 11:30 am
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Post Re: HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread
Quote:
Now she could see how true were those words. Tegan leaned against him, just content to feel…protected, safe—

TeganxPeanut OTP

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Mon Apr 02, 2012 4:08 pm
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