Challenge 302
Feb. 26th, 2013 01:48 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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kh_drabbleChallenge: 302 - Unasked Questions
Title: The One that Fell
Word Count: 600
Notes: I'd like to dedicate this to the great![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
synchroshatter, for spawning this idea in the first place. It didn't come out anywhere near as epic as I would have like, though. Hope you guys enjoy it anyway. :) No spoilers!
(It begins with a congregation of moogles)
His gaze sweeps over the hall; thousands of small, pink furry creatures have arrived for the discussion today. Everywhere he looks, there are limbs jostling, pom-poms tangling, wings flapping in each other's faces. The air is drowned in heavy discussion and it is too hot, far too hot.
In the centre of the hall, the chairmoogle bopped his hammer furiously and repeatedly, demanding silence. His features were scrunched up in an expression of extreme frustration—yet the hammer could only do so much.
With a sigh, he leans back in his seat and shoots a glance at his teammates. The five of them look just as exhausted as he feels. His navigator—the one sitting closest to him—is in the middle of suppressing a yawn. When she notices him looking, she flashes him a small smile and returns her attention to the hall floor.
When he follows suit, he realises that someone has found a microphone. The chairmoogle accepts it gratefully and switches it on.
"Silence please!"
The two words strike the crowd like lightning. A sudden hush descends throughout the hall.
He clears his throat. "There is a realm at the edge of this universe. Our scouts have returned with reports of monstrous demons and alarmingly high levels of magic activity. Unfortunately, no one has been able to venture past the first atmospheric layer. Information is limited."
The chairmoogle pauses for breath. The crowd waits.
"It has been suggested that we send our best space crew for a deep recon mission."
"It's too dangerous!" comes the first interruption, racing forward from the edge of the crowd.
"Someone could die!"
"What if no one comes back?"
Another moogle speaks up, this one closer to the podium. "But think of the profits to be gained!" he says, bouncing eagerly on his feet. "We could be the first to chart this unexplored realm. The first!"
Waves of whispered agreement ripple through the crowd. "New lands mean new business ventures!"
"But is that really worth sacrificing fellow countrymen?"
"You can't be 100% certain that the team won't come back."
"You can't be certain they will."
The chairmoogle can feel tempers rising again and hastily bops his hammer in a few short, successive strikes.
"We've argued this for long enough. It is time. Let us vote."
***
(They finish counting the votes the day after. The results: 72% for, 26% against, and 2% of corrupted votes)
When he looks up from the polls, his commander is watching him with a grim expression.
He clears his throat. "Well. I guess this means we're going after all."
The commander takes several steps forward and lays a hand on his shoulder. "May the gods be with you."
***
(They leave the next morning)
***
(And when they reach the black realm)
Scanning the skies for any signs of danger, they inch closer to the first gas layer, holding their breath.
Slowly, they pass through. The ship is intact. All seems well.
Suddenly—
A huge wave of darkness rises up before them, pulsing with menacing energy. The crew reacts; the ship reels back, trying to get out of range—but the shadows surge forward, cutting off their escape—
And everything goes black.
***
(A long time later)
A moogle wakes up to the touch of rain on his face. When he looks around, unfamiliar city lights blink back at him. The place is quiet.
He feels strange. He feels slightly nauseous.
He wonders about his crew members, wonders if they survived the explosion.
And then—
He realises he doesn't care.
Title: The One that Fell
Word Count: 600
Notes: I'd like to dedicate this to the great
synchroshatter, for spawning this idea in the first place. It didn't come out anywhere near as epic as I would have like, though. Hope you guys enjoy it anyway. :) No spoilers!(It begins with a congregation of moogles)
His gaze sweeps over the hall; thousands of small, pink furry creatures have arrived for the discussion today. Everywhere he looks, there are limbs jostling, pom-poms tangling, wings flapping in each other's faces. The air is drowned in heavy discussion and it is too hot, far too hot.
In the centre of the hall, the chairmoogle bopped his hammer furiously and repeatedly, demanding silence. His features were scrunched up in an expression of extreme frustration—yet the hammer could only do so much.
With a sigh, he leans back in his seat and shoots a glance at his teammates. The five of them look just as exhausted as he feels. His navigator—the one sitting closest to him—is in the middle of suppressing a yawn. When she notices him looking, she flashes him a small smile and returns her attention to the hall floor.
When he follows suit, he realises that someone has found a microphone. The chairmoogle accepts it gratefully and switches it on.
"Silence please!"
The two words strike the crowd like lightning. A sudden hush descends throughout the hall.
He clears his throat. "There is a realm at the edge of this universe. Our scouts have returned with reports of monstrous demons and alarmingly high levels of magic activity. Unfortunately, no one has been able to venture past the first atmospheric layer. Information is limited."
The chairmoogle pauses for breath. The crowd waits.
"It has been suggested that we send our best space crew for a deep recon mission."
"It's too dangerous!" comes the first interruption, racing forward from the edge of the crowd.
"Someone could die!"
"What if no one comes back?"
Another moogle speaks up, this one closer to the podium. "But think of the profits to be gained!" he says, bouncing eagerly on his feet. "We could be the first to chart this unexplored realm. The first!"
Waves of whispered agreement ripple through the crowd. "New lands mean new business ventures!"
"But is that really worth sacrificing fellow countrymen?"
"You can't be 100% certain that the team won't come back."
"You can't be certain they will."
The chairmoogle can feel tempers rising again and hastily bops his hammer in a few short, successive strikes.
"We've argued this for long enough. It is time. Let us vote."
***
(They finish counting the votes the day after. The results: 72% for, 26% against, and 2% of corrupted votes)
When he looks up from the polls, his commander is watching him with a grim expression.
He clears his throat. "Well. I guess this means we're going after all."
The commander takes several steps forward and lays a hand on his shoulder. "May the gods be with you."
***
(They leave the next morning)
***
(And when they reach the black realm)
Scanning the skies for any signs of danger, they inch closer to the first gas layer, holding their breath.
Slowly, they pass through. The ship is intact. All seems well.
Suddenly—
A huge wave of darkness rises up before them, pulsing with menacing energy. The crew reacts; the ship reels back, trying to get out of range—but the shadows surge forward, cutting off their escape—
And everything goes black.
***
(A long time later)
A moogle wakes up to the touch of rain on his face. When he looks around, unfamiliar city lights blink back at him. The place is quiet.
He feels strange. He feels slightly nauseous.
He wonders about his crew members, wonders if they survived the explosion.
And then—
He realises he doesn't care.
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