paixaorpg | Be Prepared [Complete]

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Be Prepared [Complete]

Character(s): Scar, open to anyone
Content: The King of Pride Rock arrives
Setting: Niflheim
Time: dusk
Warnings: Scar's psychosis?

Scar leapt from one rock to the next, taking in every detail of the gate and its long line of two-legged visitors. They received an object at a window, then walked through as if welcomed to a new land. Some seemed overjoyed, others were quite discontent with their lot at being thrown somewhere so unfamiliar and new.

But the lion didn’t care for these people or their circumstances. No, the King of Pride Rock was more interested in just what it was that lay beyond that massive wall, inside that strange structure. There was no way to see in from outside, and it piqued Scar’s curiosity. He raised his head high and roared, then bounded down to the line, tossing people aside until he was in front of the window. He leaned in close, teeth just inches from the greeter’s face, and snarled. “Make it quick.” He bit off the last word, gnashing his sharp fangs together.

The black-maned lion sauntered into the city with his journal held in his mouth, having nowhere else to put it. His haunches swayed as he hummed, examining everything around him. The first thing he noticed was how peculiar some of these creatures smelled…not like meat at all. Scar smiled, laughing to himself. “Paixao, is it? What an interesting name. And such a brilliant place, simply marvelous! Soon, Paixao, you will have a King!”

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Timon moved as quickly as his feet would carry him toward Niflheim’s grand ice gates. From the moment he had heard word of a lion passing through them he knew it had to be Simba. It simply had to be. And to think, if he had not been there to overhear a fearful citizen speak of it to another, he would have never known. At least until the lion posted an entry to his journal but if he were to meet with him at the gates there would be no need. The Organization would never even know he was there. He doubted they shared the same interest in him as Larxene had but he liked that idea none the less. Simba would be safer this time. He would make sure of it.

As he drew closer to the gates the uproar of citizens grew louder. Their worried cries, however, only encourage him to go faster. He had been waiting eagerly for the re-arrival of his friend and knew all the commotion he was causing surely had him upset. It was the least of his intentions to harm anyone and for them to judge him before they even met him… He didn’t like it. Timon on the other hand loved it and took every opportunity he got to encouraged others to see his friend as ferocious, man eating lion, that way they knew better than to mess with him. But that was not something to worry about, not until later. For now he would only focus on finding his friend.

“Simba!” he shouted excitedly once the gates came into sight. “Simba, buddy! It’s me! Over here, over here!”

Scar's ears perked up, and he looked left, then right, then left again, searching for the source of that name. "Simba?! Where?!" Eyes wide, he darted in and out of the crowds of strange bi-peds, wildly glancing around for any sign of a lion cub.

He stopped. No...Simba would be grown up now, wouldn't he? A red mane. That's what Scar was looking for. But there was no hint of it anywhere. Only these odd-scented creatures on two legs, and the smell of...

Meerkat. That must be who was shouting for Simba! Then Simba wasn't here at all. The meerkat must have thought the crazed screams about a lion were about the former heir. Scar followed the particular smell of the rodent.

Head low to the ground, it didn't take long. "You're looking for my nephew?" A broad, toothy grin spread across Scar's lips.

As the familiar form of a lion emerged from the crowd the meerkats excitement only seemed to grow. He waved his arms, signalling for his friend to join him. However, the closer the lion drew, the less certain Timon grew that this was his friend after all. His expression quickly changed to alarm. Simba was nowhere near as scrawny, regardless of his diet, as this lion or as old. No, he didn’t look even close to this one. Although with that scar over his left eye he couldn’t help but feel reminded of Kovu. Did he some sort of relation to this lion? Timon certainly hoped so, especially after the dangerously pleased smile Scar had shared with him.

“Ah heh. Nephew?” Timon asked with a nervous laugh. “You’re Simba’s uncle? What a coincidence, I was just looking for him now. He… Uh, just ran ahead of me.” He backed away from the lion cautiously, suspicious of his motives. “Funny, I’ve never heard him mention you before…”

"His favorite uncle. And he never mentioned me? What a pity." Scar's mocking tone belied his apparent concern over the matter. But his smile was quickly turned into a sneer.

"Ran ahead of you, did he?" He got closer to the meerkat, and his expression fell flat and emotionless, along with his voice. "Tell me, just where is he heading?"

Timon had no intent to offend the lion but he certainly had his doubts about him. Simba never had mentioned an uncle Scar. Of course, Simba had never said much about his previous life to begin with but that was hardly the point. The meerkat got really a bad feeling about this lion. He smiled in hopes to hide his nervousness and continued to back away from the lion.

“Who? Oh, right, Simba. Yeah, he’s just, uh, getting us some refreshments. Yeah, that’s it. Getting some refreshments. He should be back any minute now.” The meerkats forced smile stretched further across his lips. “Then we can sort this whole thing out and proper introductions.”

Scar snarled. Simba, more than anything else, should have been dead, and this was proof that the cub was still alive. He paced back and forth in front of the meerkat for a moment, cursing the useless hyenas under his breath.

The meerkat, for his part, stank of anxiousness. "I can be patient," he answered. "So, what is your name?" Making the...rodent uncomfortable should prove entertainment enough until the brat arrived, provided the prey didn't run off.

“P-patient!” the meerkat choked. This lion couldn’t seriously have intended on staying. No, not unless he really was Simba’s uncle… Or just toying him. The second seemed the more likely of the two. The hyena’s had certainly made a habit out of it, he doubted the lions would be any different. Timon looked cleared his throat before he looked back up at Scar. “That’s great! After all, you know how it goes. You go out to pick up one thing then spot something else you want, then you find out a sale, and next thing you know you’re gonna need another cart. On the other hand, he’s always been quick when it comes to stuff like this so, like I said, he shouldn’t be long at all.”

Diffidently he avoided the lion’s eyes while he rubbed his paws together. “My name?” he asked. “Ah, Fred. My name is Fred. And your name is-“ The meerkat perked his head up, as though there were something behind Scar. “Simba!” Timon called out and waved to where his friend would have been standing had he truly been there. “Over here! You’ll never guess who I found!”

The moment Scar turned, the meerkat would turn tail and run as fast as his little feet could carry him.

There was no scent of a lion different from Scar himself in the air. But this meerkat was his entertainment, so there was no point in simply calling the diminutive creature on his ruse so early in the game.

Scar took two perfectly placed steps, but rapid, around the meerkat, one paw landing inconspicuously on his tail, pinning him. The lion's head quickly shot up, eyes wide and looking hard for any signs of his nephew. "What?! Where?! I don't see him!" Feigning concern was one of Scar's favorite pastimes, after living under his older brother for so long. Acting was one of the things the cleverer younger brother had always been much better at.

Timon was in for quite the surprise when he made for his great escape. Unfortunately, he had failed to notice the lion had pinned his tail in place prior to this and only after he had been running for what seemed miles had it hit him: this feeling that he was getting nowhere? It was because he really was going nowhere. The meerkats shifted his gaze from his tail up to the lion in horror. Somehow, he must have known he was lying.

Perfect, the one lion to appear in Paixao that wasn’t Simba turned out to be a genius.

Desperately he tried to pull his tail out from under Scar’s paw but with no success, and rising panic, he decided to give running another try. “LET ME GO! LET ME GO!” The meerkat shouted in protest, flailing about wildly before he sunk his teeth into the lions paw. Deep into the lions paw. He wasn't about to give Scar another chance to pin him down further.

Scar shouted in pain, involuntarily lifting his paw as the meerkat's teeth pierced his flesh. The shout turned into a roar that split the crowd, and he spotted the diminutive creature as he scurried between the citizens.

"HOW DARE YOU?!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, pouncing straight toward the meerkat. He weaved in between the bipeds as he gave chase, a wild look in his eyes accompanying his blurring speed and vicious swipes of his claws that knocked people out of his way who weren't smart enough or fast enough to avoid him. He cared not for these mindless fools who had no smell of blood, only for the meerkat whose scent of fear trailed behind him for Scar to follow with ease.

The meerkat did not dare so much as glance behind him as he fled, the lions infuriated roar warning enough that he would be facing a fierce punishment for his actions. He could hear Scar close on his tail, the screams of the citizens he continued to weave between sign enough. There was no way he could outrun the lion, Timon knew that, but he had no intention of giving up so easily. Just because he couldn’t outrun the lion that didn’t mean others couldn’t either.

Spotting a man with a rather long dress coat ahead of him, Timon suddenly jumped onto him and latched himself to the man’s coat. He did not linger for long though. After giving himself merely seconds to rest, the meerkat began climbing up the now screaming citizens back. As expected, the man had begun running immediately after he had seen the lion coming. Like many of the citizens, he appeared to be heading in one direction: the train station. Timon’s eyes widened as they approached the heavily packed train, the doors slowly starting to close. If he was quick enough he could slide in just before the lion.

Scar kept on the meerkat's trail, wasting time only on removing obstacles from his path--throwing bipeds out of the way or swiping at them to force them to move.

He went at breakneck speed every instant he could, but the crowds were too thick to pierce through so easily; regardless of their desire to get out of his way. For a moment, he even lost his quarry's scent, until he caught a brief glimpse of one citizen screaming even louder than the others, then saw the meerkat go through a rapidly closing opening in a large structure. Not about to let him get away so easily, Scar sprinted through just before the opening was gone.

Everyone inside pressed against the walls and the seats, packing themselves together to get away from the large predator who'd just joined them. "WHERE IS HE?!" the lion shouted angrily, unable to find the tiny morsel among the densely packed mass.

Wedged between two seated citizens, Timon winced at the lion’s outburst. He had made before the doors had closed after all. Crap. He had been hoping he wouldn’t make it onto the train at all. Worriedly, he looked at the window beside him, curious whether or not there was any possibly way he could climb out through there. Unfortunately it looked as though it was sealed tightly shut. He bit his lip and began to turn away, however, in the process managed to catch the reflection of the lion in the glass. His eyes widened. There was no way of telling exactly where he was but it looked as though he were close.

The meerkat cautiously peeked out from his hiding place, curious as to where the lion was on the train. When he did, he immediately regretted it: though his back was to him, the overgrown feline stood right in front of him. Timon ducked back down, hoping he hadn’t been spotted. Even if he hadn’t, he would have to move. If the lion didn’t know where he was yet he certainly would soon.

Spotting a citizens purse bellow the seat, Timon carefully slipped down and into it, an idea in mind.

To say the cabin was cramped once Scar had leaped in would be putting it lightly. The bipeds all shied away from him, fearful but unable to find egress from the enraged lion; this meant the only place for them to go was toward each other. He was given as much of a berth as they could manage, which meant they were all right on top of each other. And it also meant that the meerkat could move all he wanted, while Scar barely had room to swipe his claws, or even move his head enough to bite someone.

The lion was out of breath from the intense run, and panting heavily. He frantically scanned for any sign of the foolish creature who'd bit him, and when he finally caught a glimpse of the reckless meerkat he was quickly thwarted by the fact he couldn't lunge between these scentless bipeds to get at his meal. Then the meerkat was gone again, somewhere on the floor. Scar laid down onto his paws, and saw only the meerkat's tail slip into a bag.

It seemed this leg of the chase would be won by patience. The black-maned lion adopted a fanged grin, and got his face as close to the bag as he could--still a small distance away, certainly too far to snatch it.

"You must come out eventually, you know," he taunted with a malicious edge. "You're not getting away from me."

Timon froze at Scar’s words. He must have seen him climb into the purse. The meerkat’s eyes grew wide at the thought as the lions scent grew stronger. He was closer but by how much? Timon wasn’t sure. He was almost too scared to find out but, somehow, gathered enough courage to peek out the top of the purse. The moment he did Timon immediately regretted it. Oh, the lion was close. Very close. Not quite enough to reach the purse but that could have easily changed if he simply scooted a tad closer.

The meerkat swallowed the forming lump in his throat and slowly lowered himself back into the purse. This really would be a game of patience. Luckily for him he already had a plan in mind and more than a surprise in store for Scar. He too sat down, prepared for the long wait ahead of him but kept his head visible just enough to watch the lion in case he chose to make the first move.

The train ride was long and uncomfortable. The passengers notably got antsier the longer they were forced to stand, pushed against the sides of the train. Timon was beginning to feel the same after a certain period of time passed. He felt anxious and incredibly trapped. The moment he made a break for it the lion would un-doubtfully pounce. That was why he had to time his escape perfectly.

It wasn’t until the train came to a complete stop Timon finally decided to make his move. His eyes traveled from the doors then the lion, as though to judge the distance between the two. Then, just as the doors slid open, the meerkat suddenly tipped the purse over and slid out of it. However, he did not leave unarmed. Riding atop a rounded bottle, he pressed down on its nozzle spraying Scar right in the face with perfume.

Hoping this would temporarily distract the lion long enough for his getaway he then jumped off the bottle and ran straight for the door.

Scar was great at being patient, especially since most of a lion's day was spent lazing around, rather than doing anything else. So he sat and stared at the bag intently, waiting for Timon to try to make his escape. Then the train finally came to a stop.

"GAAAAAAH!" Scar shouted as his eyes were splashed with the pungent-smelling liquid. He tried to wipe at them with a paw, but it was hardly any use. He couldn't see, and now, thanks to the powerful scent of the stuff his face was covered in, he couldn't catch the meerkat's scent, either. He backed out of the train by memory, bumping into something on the way, and then tried to wipe at his eyes again. His vision was blurry, but it was enough to watch the vermin scurry out the door and into the city again, well ahead of the lion.

Scar leaped out of the train, repeating his earlier, proven methods to get the bipeds out of his way as he resumed chasing the meerkat. He didn't know where Timon was trying to run, but it didn't matter. He would have that rodent for a meal, or at least for a kill if he didn't taste decent enough to eat.

Perfect! Everything was going exactly as planned. With at least two of the lion’s sense taken care of, the chances of Timon’s escape greatly changed in his favour. Well, at least the way he saw it. True, he was neither as fast nor strong as the lion but as far as brains went, his were far greater than his assailant. Feeling more confident at this point, a small grin appeared on his face while he fled to the nearest building he could find. Once he got inside, there was no way the lion could follow him. If he couldn’t open doors, neither could the lion and with the uproar he would cause, no one would want to let him in anyway.

Spotting Cafe Ersesat in the distance, Timon picked up his pace and raced for the building excitedly. After this the chase would be over and the one with the true brains would show though. The meerkat shouted to out to a man entering the café as he drew. “Let me in, let me in!” An expression of horror appeared on the citizen’s face when he spotted the lion following the little meerkat. He slammed the door shut immediately after Timon entered and locked it shut.

Out of breath, Timon looked through the glass at the approaching lion and grinned. “Ha!” he shouted, walking away from the door. “Who’s the king of Paixao now?”

Scar's vision was still terribly obscured, and his sense of smell was gone completely. His only saving grace was the immediate desire of the crowd before him to disperse and get out of his way, leaving nothing in front of him but the meerkat.

He heard the meerkat's shouting clearly, and could make out something of a structure ahead. What the lion couldn't see was the door opening and closing, or the meerkat taunting him from behind a pane of glass. To Scar, it looked like an open entryway, inviting him to continue pursuit of his minuscule quarry. The large cat picked up even more speed, intending to charge in and scoop up the meerkat in his maw at once.

He leaped into the air, claws at the ready and baring a muzzle full of sharp teeth, only to find his mass crashing through a clear, floating substance that shattered on impact. Shards of it scratched his hide even through his thick fur, eliciting a half-roared shout of pain from him. He rolled forward as he hit the ground unexpectedly, claws swiping at everything in range in an attempt to gain purchase and stop his momentum. He smashed into tables and chairs, splintering the wood everywhere, and numerous citizens found gashes from his claws in their legs. Scar slammed into the wall opposite the door in a heap of fur, small rivulets of blood soaked into his fur, and a trail of splintered wood and shattered glass and broken and scattered dishware leading to his prone form.

Timon’s eyes grew wide in horror when the sound of shattered glass entered his ears. The meerkat watched as broken pieces flew past him, piercing the seat cushions while he dove out of the way of the lion. He landed on his side and continued to roll back until he ran into fallen chair. There a cry of his own escaped him, caused when one of the shards of fallen glass drove itself into his back. He reached behind him to pull it out but immediately drew his paw back when he found it too painful to remove.

The meerkat laid across the room from the lion, his eyes watching him carefully while he continued to breathe heavily out of breath. Scar looked in bad shape but Timon knew better than to expect this to be the end of their little chance. Still, part of him hoped the lion would not get up - at least not any time soon. If he somehow managed to still be standing after this, well, he had to be invincible! The way he had gone straight through the door like that, tables and chairs following… He slowly climbed to his feet, stumbling forward to get a closer look at the lion.

If he got up after this he was going to be mad. Really mad.

The lion's chest heaved with each rasping breath, drawn into troubled lungs. He panted with ragged gasps, sneering and snarling and growling in between each sharp inhalation. His wild eyes were full of fury and wrath, darting back and forth to search for the taunting form of that miserable little wretch who had done this to the King of the Pridelands. But his sense of vision still failed him. Everything was blurred and distorted through their bloodshot field of view, dark rings throbbing forward and back with each heartbeat. All he could smell now was blood. Robbed of both sight and scent, Scar could not tell where the meerkat now hid.

Wracked with pain, the black-maned lion dragged his legs in toward his body, then pushed himself on top of them. As he tried to stand, he found he no longer had the strength to hold his body up. His legs were forced out, and he crashed back to the floor. He scowled and snarled again, then stood up with more determination, his expression proud and strong. He took a pained step forward, placing his paw down onto more of the broken glass, then another. But he kept his facial expression stoic and proud, showing nothing of the strain he was putting on his body. He took his time, and walked outside of the cafe, ignoring everyone and everything around him.

For now, the meerkat had won. Scar could no longer keep up such a physically demanding hunt. He was not his brother. But Timon was also not as smart as he thought. Scar may have given up the chase for today, but that did not mean he would forget the reason for it.

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Be Prepared [Complete]

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