paixaorpg | Relics [Completed]

Entry tags:

Relics [Completed]

Character(s): Timon, Pumbaa, and Urd.
Content: Double trouble set out in search of answers only to find a certain meerkat instead.
Setting: Pride Lands
Time: Afternoon
Warnings: None.

The Pride Lands were not as he remembered them. He had mocked their ruler, Mufasa, for noting a simple stone turned the wrong way. But the lion had been right about change, Timon could not deny that. The scent was undoubtedly different, the herds had moved on, and as little as Timon cared for detail, even he could tell the plant life had changed. He frowned at the thought and tightened his grip on Pumbaa’s ears. In response, the warthog began to trot in place of the slow strides he had been making. The hurried steps made Timon realize how anxious he felt to return home, not just to the Pride Lands but to his colony. Assuming they were even still there. The meerkat had doubts, especially when he had heard of the ruin the lands had become under Scars reign. What animals that had survived had only done so by moving on. Had they, his colony, moved in time?

“I’m just thinking.” Timon told his friend. Pumbaa had stopped after likely noting how tense he’d become. It didn’t matter if they could not see each other’s faces. Somehow they’d always just been able to read one another. Though, Timon for one wished Pumbaa hadn’t been so observant. “I still got that Déjà Vu feelin’ going on. It’s got me covered in those creepy goose pimples.” He tsked. In return he received a simple nod before he flicked the warthog’s ears similar to a horses reins. “C’mon, pal. Let's whip some grass!”

After growing up here, it was almost shameful how Timon had failed to recognize the Pride Lands at first. Pumbaa had been no better, equally as lost and confused by their surroundings, even after exploring. But it had years since he had last visited the lands. Change was only to be expected, even if the world was ‘fake’, a mere floor of the castle. This place was still based off someone’s memories. The question was whose? It had not been Mufasa’s, Scar’s, or his own but they were all ‘from the past’. The only others left that he could suspect were Kovu and Kiara who came from a ‘future’ in which the first two did not exist.

There were those goose pimples again.

Timon clung tightly to Pumbaa as they sped from Pride Rock in the direction of the meerkat tunnels he had once called his home. Would Ma be just another face of the past too? Even if this world was ‘fake’, it was still based on some sort of reality. Maybe it held an answer. Timon narrowed his eyes. He needed to know. The trip to the tunnels would be long but worth it. If only to know…

Suddenly the meerkat found himself sailing through the air. A puddle of mud broke his fall but also resulted in a mouth full of dirt. He pulled himself out and spat the mud from his mouth. “Pumbaa!” He shrieked, “why’d you stop?” Timon surveyed himself in disgust and flicked the mud off and onto his friend. Thankfully the watering hole was still close by. “You could have at least warned me.”

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Gee, sorry Timon. But if I hadn't stopped there I would've gotten stuck in the mud. You remember last time I got stuck in the mud while I was running, don't you?" The experience hadn't been very fun, and had ended with both of them needing a bath. Pumbaa could still remember how angry those rhinos had been.

“Thanks for thinkin’ of both of us.” Timon replied dryly, though Pumbaa had a point. It would have been worse if he had fallen in as well. Getting the warthog out would have proved more troublesome than just himself, not to mention the smell. Wet warthog was just not an appealing smell. Not that he smelt much better at the moment. At that thought, he attempted to shake the mud from his fur, but made little progress. It had caked itself rather well to his fur. A sigh escaped him, but his misery did not linger long. It had not been long before the meerkat cracked a grin at his companion, paws sunken deeply into the mud.

“Don’t think we’re not in this together, you know!” he said before playfully tossing mud balls straight at Pumbaa. If he had to walk around covered in mud, so would Pumbaa. It was only fair.

The first mudball hit Pumbaa almost right between the eyes, and the next landed right on top his head. His flanks were soon pelted, though the meerkat's mudballs weren't so big that Pumbaa was getting covered in it yet.

"Oh, so that's how it's going to be?" He pretended to actually be offended with Timon for just a second, then grinned himself, and scooped up a big clod of mud with a hoof. Moments later, Pumbaa's own mudballs were flying at the meerkat, though his aim was pretty terrible and only a few were actually getting anywhere near Timon.

“He fakes left.” The meerkat announced, jumping to the side to dodge one of his friend’s mud balls. “He fakes right.” He continued, swerving once again in the mud to avoid another ball. “And he-!” And he gets one right in the face. What a shot Pumbaa had made. The impact alone resulted in Timon stumbling back a few steps before falling deeper into the mud and disappearing completely. It was only when the meerkat wiped away the mud from his eyes did he appear visible again in the puddle. The layers of mud that had built up over his body had allowed him camouflaged perfectly within it. However, as much of an advantage blending with his surroundings would give him, Timon had completely overlooked the idea. He had not the patients to wait for Pumbaa to draw near then attack. He wanted his revenge right then and there.

“That’s it,” Timon growled, emerging from the mud like sort of swamp monster. The way the mud clung to him, he certainly looked like one. “Now you’re in for it!” Without further warning, the meerkat ran at the warthog, cradling a puddle of mud in his arms. Once he had drawn close enough, he threw it at the pig’s face. "Take this!"

Edited 2011-06-15 20:10 (UTC)

Timon probably didn't need to be so showy with dodging Pumbaa's throws, since they really were very off, but he could only laugh when Timon ran right into one. That didn't last though, and just moments later the warthog's face fell as mud splashed right on top of his nose and got all over his mane. He snorted to get some of it out of his nostrils, then grinned broadly.

"Oh yeah?" He grabbed as much as he could in his front hooves and hurled it at Timon, hoping that it didn't come up short.

Timon jumped back, the mud that shot from the warthog’s nose landing right at his feet. Though, the meerkat looked by no means repulsed. In fact, he had laughed at the act. He had long lost count of how many times he had dove into the warthogs mouth after a bug or accidentally been snorted up his friends nose in his sleep. Now that had been a gold exhibition he’d of preferred to sit out of.

The meerkat held his arms up to try and block the mud Pumbaa had thrown at him. As a result, it caused the mud to spray everywhere, both on himself and back in the warthogs direction. Regardless of the amount of mud he had been wearing, though, Timon still looked as though he had been having fun. He brought his paws down and glanced between Pumbaa and himself, surveying their current state before he spoke. “How ‘bout we call it a draw?” he offered. “I can already feel this stuff startin’ to dry and you know how hard it is to get this stuff outta my fur when it does.” To prove his point, Timon took a moment to pull an already dry piece of mud out of his fur and held it up for his friend to see. “I’ll even race you back to the watering hole.”

Pumbaa laughed as Timon pulled some of the mud out of his fur. It had been a long time since they'd been able to get so messy, there wasn't any real mud in the city. And boy, Timon was covered.

"Okay!" The warthog lowered himself on his front hooves and stuck his hind end in the air, ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

Somehow, Timon had known Pumbaa would get a kick out of seeing him completely covered head to toe in mud. And after his constant refusal to join the warthog in a mud bath, it must have been a nice change for him. Timon on the other hand was not so particularly fond of the change. The mud was heavy, even as it was starting to dry. He wanted it off as soon as possible. At the thought, he picked another clump off his fur. Could he still win a race under such conditions?

Lowering himself onto all fours as well, the meerkat shared another grin with his friend. “Don’t take it personally when I win.” He told the warthog challengingly, his own bottom in the air to assume the same position Pumbaa had. The only difference had been that he had shaken his to attempt to get more mud off before starting the race.

“Alright, on the count of three.” he instructed. “One… Two… Go!” Suddenly Timon took off, starting on all fours, then moving to only his hind legs again. Hopefully the burst of speed at the beginning would be enough to keep him in front of Pumbaa. That and the fact that he had purposefully avoided saying ‘three’ just to try and confuse his friend. Ah, such a good sportsmen Timon was.

"Huh?" What happened to three? Pumbaa was stumped for a second, and it took him a few moments to realize what Timon had just done. "Hey, that's cheating!"

The warthog took off after his little buddy, sure that he'd be able to catch up and win the race anyway, even if Timon was a dirty little cheater. Dirty in the figurative sense, that is, since because he was all covered in mud he was already dirty in the literal sense.

Cheating, ha! Why, he had only rendered the rules to his favour. That was all. If anyone asked, he had simply forgotten that it had been ‘three’ instead of ‘go’ that he was supposed to say. How it had given him the advantage to a head start was only luck. At the thought, the meerkat looked back at his friend and laughed while on his way back to the watering hole. Pumbaa was behind, but not by far. And when that pig needed too, he really could move. If Timon wanted to win, he’d have to up his game or he would quite literally be left in the dirt. He jumped over numerous roots and rocks, beginning to fall off course in a desperate search for something, anything he could use to slow Pumbaa down before he disappeared completely.

Suddenly, the meerkat appeared again on the head of a duiker. The small antelope leapt out of the grass and shook its head in protest, attempting to remove Timon but it was no anvil. The redhead clung tightly to the horns which sprouted from the animals head as it continued to kick wildly in hopes of removing him before it darted forward. Finally, they were headed in the right direction. “Yeeeeeeee haaaaaaaw!” he cried, steering the duiker straight for the watering hole.

Alright, maybe he was the dirty little cheater Pumbaa saw him as. But he’d still be a winner in the end.

"Timon, that's no fair!" Pumbaa shouted. He knew Timon cheated a lot, but this?! This was just going too far! He'd never thought his bestest best friend could ever be such a terrible, no good, rotten person on the inside, that he'd cheat not only once, but twice just to win a race. Pumbaa was ashamed.

But that didn't mean he was giving up! If Timon was going to cheat, then Pumbaa would just have to cheat too! There was no way some dirty little cheater was gonna beat him, nosiree! The warthog scanned the horizon for anything he could use, and then spotted it. There was a rhino just off to the left, and if Timon wasn't careful he'd run straight into it on the little duiker. Pumbaa gave an evil grin.

"Hey Timon, you should look out! There's a rhino in front of you and just a little to the...uh...right!"

Timon looked back at Pumbaa in confusion, mouthing the word ‘what’ before he spoke. “A little to the… right?” How little to the right had he been talking? When he looked back to where he was going, it became apparent ‘a little’ meant a sharp right in order to avoid the rhino right in front of them. The meerkat jerked the duikers head to the right by its horn, forcing the animal to just miss the clueless rhino that had been enjoying a drink. It tumbled down to the ground and rolled on its side before it managed to jump to its feet again and run off without its rider.

Coughing from his spot on the ground, Timon waved the dust clear so that he could breathe again. If he was lucky, a herd of duiker would not be returning later to stomp him flat for what he had pulled. Though, it was unlikely he’d be recognized by the small antelope. When he had lost his hold of the duiker, he had rolled through the grass causing loose blades to stick to the mud covered his body. Before he had looked like a monster, but with the grass stuck to him? He just looked outright ridiculous. Hopefully, this would be the end of the abuse he would endure for one day, or at least the for the race.

When the dust finally cleared, the meerkat was surprised to find himself sitting right in front of the watering hole. He threw his paws up in the air and laughed. “Ha, ha! I made it! Woohoo, I’m number one!” The rhino who Timon had narrowly missed and been enjoying a drink simply snorted in response. “Yeesh, tough crowd.” Not exactly the photo finish he had imagined but it was close enough – minus how sore he felt after the beating he had taken. “Ow.” Cheating had its price; it hurt. There would be no more ‘changing the rules to his favour’… For the rest of the day.

Pumbaa hadn't thought that Timon would've steered right toward the rhino on his own anyway, but that just meant that since the warthog was so much further back, he had more time to make sure he was well of the way of the rhino's big bulk. But what Pumbaa also hadn't counted on was Timon getting thrown forward even further than he would've gone on his own.

"I say you didn't win, because you cheated." Pumbaa had stopped running by the time he got to the water hole, and was glaring harshly at his bestest best friend. "That means I win, because I was perfectly honest the whole time."

The meerkat scowled at his friends accusing look. “What? Where does it say anywhere in the rules that riding other animals is ‘illegal’, huh? You can’t disqualify me just because of some duiker mishap. I won fair and square according to the standard rules of a footrace. As long as it’s by foot, on land, it still counts.” On his feet again, Timon folded his arms across his chest and scoffed. “I did nothing wrong and like a true sportsman – though less of the man variety and more of the meerkat kind – played just as honest and fairly as you.”

Needing a moment to free his arms which had become to stuck to his body, he jabbed his ‘finger’ right into Pumbaa’s nose. “I say I did win.”

Pumbaa shoved himself forward with a snort. "Well I say you didn't!" He towered over Timon, even though he knew that his size would never really intimidate the meerkat. "A footrace is supposed to be run on the runner's own feet, not the feet of other animals who just so happen to be passing by, Timon!"

As predicted, Timon found Pumbaa’s size to be more of an inconvenience than anything else. The way he tried to intimidate him with his larger stature was annoying, especially when they both knew it was pointless. Though, if Pumbaa had sat on him it certainly would have persuaded the meerkat to agree with him. At the thought, Timon leaned back and tried to push the warthog’s snout away from him. “Oh, sure, you say that now. After the race is over. If these were any sort of real ‘violations’ you’d of said them at the start of the race.”

With that, the meerkat turned to walk away from his friend and head toward the water. “And for the record, I did run on my feet.” Just not the entire race. “Now quit livin’ in the past, the race is over. I wanna go swimming now.” The sooner he got the mud, grass, and everything else that had attached itself to him off, the better.

"Okay!" Pumbaa was nothing if not agreeable. So, since it was Timon's idea to go swimming, the warthog promptly shoved the meerkat into the water with a broad grin. "Hakuna Matata!"

He went to climb up on top of the rock, and got ready to dive in.

“Hey-!” Caught off guard by Pumbaa’s sudden act, Timon flew forward into the water and splashed the near rhino right in the face. The animal snorted then returned to drinking before making an expression of disgust. Who could blame him? There was a rodent practically bathing in the watering hole. The rhino spat the water he had been drinking out and left, the other animals who had been enjoying a drink having done much the same. If it hadn’t been the meerkat, it was easily his company, the warthog, who had sent them on their way. Nothing cleared a party better than a malodorous warthog. But as far as Timon had been concerned, the watering hole had been too crowded anyway. ‘That’s the problem with public pools’ he’d rant ‘you never know who you’re swimmin’ with!’.

When Timon surfaced, he wore a broad grin on his face, surprisingly amused by Pumbaa. “Ha, ha. Very funny.” He said as he wiped some of the mud from his face and glancing back where he’d been pushed. However, to his surprise, Pumbaa was no longer there. Blinking numerous times, the meerkat looked around the area for a moment before he noticed his friend standing atop a small rock. What was he doing all the way up there? Did he plan to do a dive or something? The thought brought Timon to an instant stop. Then panic.

Struggling to run out of the water, he cried up to his friend. “No, Pumbaa. No!” There wasn’t enough room for that. Pumbaa would land right on top of him!

Edited 2011-06-22 17:12 (UTC)

A streak of purple and white darted in and out of whatever shelter could be found --a rock here, under a tree there, maybe a shrub. Anything to hide from the sight of the flying shadow overhead. Urd hadn't bothered to double check what kind of bird was stalking her but she wasn't about to stick around and find out. Not when her powers were so unreliable, not when she happened to be this low on the food chain!

Oblivious to anything but the panic setting in, she dashed from under the cover of a straggly bush, all four paws breaking the crust of earth from her mad scramble. Overhead the bird called out its intent, dipping down towards her and picking up speed. Only one option!

She dived into the water, heedless of its present occupants.

By the time Timon had started yelling Pumbaa had already jumped, curling up into the classic cannonball position in order to create the biggest splash possible. Sadly, he didn't realize that this would result in him landing directly on top of his meerkat friend.

"Huh? Hey Timon, where'd you go?" In his confusion, he hadn't sen that someone else had entered the water, so when he saw a little splash on the other side of the water hole, he got up and trotted over to it. "There you are! You shouldn't hide like that Timon, it makes me get all..." Pumbaa's face slumped. "Uh, Timon, why's your fur purple?"

Thankfully, Timon could recall having only met with darkness rather than Pumbaa’s bottom. No sooner than when the warthog moved did the meerkat emerge from the water, coughing and splashing about. This was getting ridiculous. Hadn’t he taken enough abuse for one day? He was getting too old for this, or at least Pumbaa was. It sounded as though the warthog had already begun seeing things, claiming that he, Timon, had somehow become purple. The meerkat rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to bury his face in his paws.

“Oi, I’m over here.” He called, though slowly began to make his way toward his friend in the water. Once he drew close enough, however, he immediately came to a stop. “Pumbaa, what did I tell you about picking up strange animals? You don’t know where that’s been. It could be sick or somethin’, just look at it. Do you have any idea what it could- !” The cry from the eagle above interrupted Timon, the bird seen diving straight for them when he looked up at it. “Eagle!” It must have been after whatever had jumped into the water with them. A mongoose? Timon didn’t have time to find out. The water wouldn’t do much regarding cover, especially when many eagles could easily snatch their prey from the surface.

Timon appeared to have abandoned all previous thoughts of the other animal having been ‘infectious’, grabbing the strange coloured meerkat and roughly pulling her underneath Pumbaa with him. This particular animal did not look as though it would camouflage any better with the ground than himself, what with such wild colouring. They could hide under Pumbaa, but if the bird persisted they would need a new place to hide until the warthog could successfully fend off the eagle. Holding Urd close, protectively so, Timon narrowed his eyes and looked up at his friend before shifting his gaze to that around them. Hopefully the bird was the only predator they had to worry about.

When Pumbaa made his way over to her, Urd shrank further into the water. Again and again she tried to access her powers, and each time, her vision tunneled and her animalistic senses flared in protest. Overwhelmed, she only dimly registered the giant thing saying a familiar name before she was grabbed and shoved under cover. Heart pounding, she was finally able to focus, looking in dazed confusion up at Timon, watching in dim shock as he glared off into space.

She opened her mouth to call out to him but everything in her was screaming that she should stay as quiet and still as possible, to let the pungent shield that was Pumbaa protect them. But she was a goddess! She protected people, not the other way around! Still...

Urd squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face into Timon's fur, doing everything she could to tap into her divine powers...and failing.

"Hey, you leave my pals alone, ya big bully!" Pumbaa let his tusks ward off the eagle as it took a dive for the meerkats, who'd just barely made it under him in time. Of course, Pumbaa's yell did nothing but further incite the bird of prey. It quickly made another pass, this time aiming for the warthog's hindquarters, hoping to scrap him up badly enough that Pumbaa wouldn't be able to act as a shield anymore, but it wasn't long before the diving predator realized its mistake and quickly tried to stop his dive in midair. This resulted in it spinning around and doing a loop before finally spiraling face first into the ground with a splat.

"That'll show ya to pick on my pals!" Yes, darting under Pumbaa at the last instant for protection was good enough for the warthog to consider someone his "pal." He didn't have any reason to think otherwise, right? It wasn't like this was an evil meerkat.

Timon had seen Pumbaa knock out a lot of animals with his ‘unique’ odour, but this had to be the fastest he had seen his friend do it by far. He was getting pretty good with this ‘secret weapon’ of his now that he had learned to embrace it. The meerkat stared at the fallen eagle for a moment to ensure that it was really knocked out before celebrating their victory. “Whoa! Nice shot, Pumbaa. That’s gotta be a personal best. And here I thought you’d gone all soft, yeah ol’ lug!” It looked as though Pumbaa still had as much fight in him as he did the day they had met. Not that there had been much fighting on that particular occasion. If anything, there had been more screaming than anything else…

He released his hold of Urd and began to walk away, leaving her behind. Timon was more than prepared to forget about this other animal, strange as they were, and go on with his journey. After all, three was a crowd… or was it three’s company? Either way, they’d saved this crazy mooks life. That was more than enough. They didn't need anymore distractions or predators after them. “C’mon,” he said, giving a wave to indicate his friend should follow him. “Let’s get outta here before they wake up. I don't know about you but I sure don’t wanna get mixed up with a martial eagle.”

Edited 2011-06-24 22:48 (UTC)

As soon as Timon released her, she slumped face first into the ground. Struggling to lift her head up, she tried to speak, failed, and tried again. "W-Wait..." she gasped, reaching out with her paw to try to grasp his tail. "You can't...just leave me!" She missed his tail but she tried again, this time making it to all fours.

"Timon!" she barked with what was left of her energy, her voice momentarily the clear command she possessed in her usual form. The moment passed as her legs went out from under her and she flopped back down.

Edited 2011-06-24 22:56 (UTC)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 3

Relics [Completed]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject