Strangers in A Strange New Place

[The Gourmand]

The sea beast finished the movement across the blade of the tiny hatchet before he returned his head to a raised position. It seemed he was in no real rush to address the point of contention. He wasn’t chomping at the bit to speak. He came off as a public official, about to make some sort of composed speech. He was calm. The breaths remained controlled; slow and in a state of half-meditation to keep the residual pain at bay.

“It is done. A punishment worthy of the crime.”

The Gourmand was not sorry. As far as he was concerned, justice was served.

“My garb once represented an individual who would blindly support a despotic queen. This queen would claim they were above judgement and questioning. This queen would abuse a child’s trust to try and kill them. And this, my prize, is the hide of one who would sit idly by and allow such a queen to rule. This hide belonged to one who would target a being laughably small in comparison to themselves under order of a despot. This is none other than the one responsible for the maiming of Huela.”

He took a breath and continued, lowering his crested cranium and his eyes narrowed lights of red.

“And now, I use my prize to represent something else,” his voice resonated like a distant thunder, “Victory over the corrupt. Truth in the face of disillusionment. Threat to my enemies. Proof of devotion to my friends.”

He took a thumb to the bladed end of the tiny weapon and ran it down. The blade sliced his flesh with just the smallest amount of pressure. Teal blood mixed with yellow fluid from pustules on his hand that had been burned by his overheating rig in the midst of battle.

“We will not make a martyr out of a monster. Understand?”

[Afua]

Afua stands now ignoring the medics words his ears jerking back at his best friends snarl, body still sore and aching from the sudden attack his “aunt” had given him days before but at the moment he could hardly feel it. A snarl ripples from his maw as he listens to the alien that wore his 3rd cousins skin and bones, the same lioness that he had slept beside, ate beside just weeks before now was decimated by Gourmand.

“It is done. A punishment worthy of the crime.”

Another snarl escapes the teenage almost young adult now as he staggers forward still listening. “She may of attacked one of your friends but that by no means you should wear her corpse as a prize!” Yes, Afua was ashamed of the fact his cousin did nothing to help Kanzi, the look on her face said it all, it was blank, almost emotionless that would be the last time he saw her before the riot started where she vanished into the throng of battle.

“Kiara...Kiara do something! Your future queen” he begs head snapping to the lioness before turning to Gourmand once more. “Will you kill them when you see fit?” He motioned to the lionesses huddled in the corner, orange eyes flashing with anger “will you display their skin and bones?” He hisses softly still moving towards him “how dare you even stay in he same barn as us lions wearing that!”

[Huela]

“And how dare you— gh!! — wander around a barn filled with victims of lion mauling, acting like you get to choose what others do. Acting like that hide is innocent.”

The Geck has been unconscious for a while, but the increase in complaints and arguments seems to have roused her from her rest. She’s only a few feet from Afua, rested on a pile of bloodied cloth. It’s obvious by the expression she’s bearing, Huela hasn’t been given anything for the pain of a half-broken body and a missing leg.

“I don’t care if that was your mom, your sister, whatever,” Huela huffs, “... That lioness was garbage. Most of your pride was absolute garbage. You all talk so much smack for creatures bested by a round doorknob... what, now that their are lions in here, the barnhouse is yours? This man-made structure? Why don’t you go outside if it upsets you so much? Or are you in need of the hand-drawn bandages, the man-made cloth?”

Another groan, and a fluttering of eyelids as the pain threatens to drag Huela back into the dark. But it’s piss and vinegar that keeps her awake, something only unearthed by her previous conversation with a certain aquatic warlord.

“I’m walking a tightrope because of your oh-so-perfect Pride. Most folks in here are. Some got real lucky. They get cold, shallow graves out behind the barn, because the ships couldn’t outrun the blood loss. One family even won the lottery and lost a father. Lost a mate. Shattered, now. And, no. You don’t get to pull Queen Crazy on this one. She didn’t die defending any of you. I hear she ran away, like the coward she was.”

A deep breath here, fighting pain while agony slips out in venomous words. Golden gaze slips closed, body shifting slightly.

“You’re not in Kansas anymore. This isn’t your glorified boulder, and you don’t get to just claim it, either. Your bloodline is forfeit, your rule is hollow. And I’m glad. You all suck at ruling.”

[Shani]

"Enough yelling... please..."
Shani's words were hoarse, her voice cracked and tired, and she didn't even have the energy to sound upset. The yelling hurt her ears, yes, but adding her own to the mix wouldn't help matters any.

Granted, from what was being said of the other lions, they had a right to be upset. She could sense something was off about the Gourmand since they had arrived here, but it was hard to say what. Now it was being described out in front of her, she could imagine it was quite a grisly and disturbing sight. Even the thought of seeing something like that made her a little sick to her stomach. It was brutal, but was it really as unjustified as the others were saying.

Quite a few others started shooting down the words of the angry cubs. The head medic's ears swiveled this way and that at each of their voices, and she found herself agreeing with them. The former pride had done nothing against Nala's cruel actions, stood by as the former queen ripped apart the freedom fighters with words alone, and from what she had been told afterward, none had lifted a paw against the actions toward Kanzi.

When Huela's voice reaches her ears, Shani's expression finally shifts, there's a hint of worry behind her tired, sight-less eyes.
Shifting around in her medic bag, she grabbed a bottle and made her way over to the tiny geck.
"You're right," she tells her, "But you shoudn't be getting upset in your state, here..."
she pulls something out of the bottle, a natural pain-killer, one of the few things she had salvaged of their supplies,
"Take this, it'll help with the pain."

[Flynn Rider]

"Captain, if you grab his legs, I’ll grab his arms? We could force him to relax.”

“How about this, Mister Rider. I could use an extra set of hands weaving and medicating bandages. Have you ever operated a table loom before? You get to rest and still assist the medics. It’s a win-win.”

Flynn's face lit up, and a genuine laugh burst from his lips. While he covered his mouth as to not disturb any of the sleeping army, he couldn't help but admit how wonderful it was to laugh. God, it felt good. And to really mean it? That was the best part of all.

The only bad part was the painful sharpness coming from his ribs as he did.

“Alright, alright,” Flynn waved his hands in agreement. “You got me, I’ll work the loom.” His smile twisted a bit, and his eyes seemed distant. “I have worked one before, long story actually. A daring tale involving me, a LOT of gold, and trying women’s clothing-”

"Flynn, when was the last time you took pain medicine? I have some here if you need it. You really should take it easy."

Flynn paused. “Never,” he replied honestly. “The pain hasn’t been really all that bad until today, so I guess I could take some medicine.” Crouching down to retrieve the medicine from Shani, Eugene opened his mouth to continue when he was interrupted by…

Well, by everyone.

"WHY ARE YOU WEARING THAT?!"

“My garb once represented an individual who would blindly support a despotic queen. This queen would claim they were above judgment and questioning… We will not make a martyr out of a monster. Understand?”

“You’re not in Kansas anymore. This isn’t your glorified boulder, and you don’t get to just claim it, either. Your bloodline is forfeit, your rule is hollow. And I’m glad. You all suck at ruling.”

Everything moved so quickly, Eugene didn’t have time to react. Standing up to reply, the world suddenly got really… spinny. This must be how Shorty feels every day. Staggering to stand upright, Flynn leaned on a short pillar and looked back. “OK, OK, everyone needs to calm down.” The rogue, looking directly at Afua and then at the Gourmand, figured he needed a solution to this.

(Uh, Eugene, hate to break it to you, but there is not an easy solution here.)

“Listen, I can get why everyone’s upset-”

A drunken whistle came from the back of the barn. “YOU SAID IT, FLYNN! WOO!”

A pause. Flynn rubbed his face in near embarrassment, “Yes, thank you Shorty. There’s a lot of hard feelings in here right now, and I think we need to settle this like the civilized people we are.” A direct glare at the two male lions was more than enough for Flynn.

“Gourmand is right; The pelt is his trophy, and a reminder to the rest of us what happens when power gets into people’s head. Do I like it? Eh. I mean, it wouldn’t fit in my wardrobe, but that doesn’t mean I can call him out for wearing it. If it’s his victory over a corrupt government, then let’s just be happy he doesn’t your skin or my skin as a cape.”

Flynn paused. “...Although I bet I’d make a pretty handsome cape,” was the mumbled compliment he paid himself as he stroked his scruff.

(Back on point, Flynn!)

Shaking his head slightly, he looked back, “Sorry, that was off topic. Anyways, I see why the lions are upset; it’s another big glowing reminder of where their predecessor went wrong. They might even see it as being tasteless or rubbing it in. Don’t forget that Nala forced our hand and put everyone in this situation. Honestly, I can blame her for this massive gash in the middle of my chest. But will any of this matter if we’re killed like pigs because we can’t work as a group?” Flynn swiped out with both hands, “No way! The main point is- AGH!!![/b]”

This time, the pain was actually unbearable; he must have swung too hard. Flynn dropped to a knee, clutching his chest as his teeth gritted against each other. “Ergh…”

A hook-shaped object wrapped itself under Flynn’s armpit, and the rogue was lifted up and placed on a box. Looking up to the familiar face of Hook Hand, Flynn patted the large ruffian’s shoulder. “Thanks, but I should be OK now.”

“You better not die, Rider. You still have to pay for your tab.”

(What a sympathetic friend.)

Flynn looked back at the others. “The point is, we’re forced into this by God, or fate, or whatever you believe in. We’re all that’s left of the Freedom Fighters after that God-awful day. But we have to fight! We have to work together and move on and kick Blackblood ass! Because that is why we joined in the first place! Not because of monarchies and petty squabbles! We’re here because we want the rest of the world to face the next sunrise, the next dawn and not worry about if the Legionnaires will pop in one day and ruin everything.”

Flynn planted his feet firmly as he sat. “So what we need to do stop complaining and start working. Besides, if I’m tapping out, that’s a job someone else can handle. In the end, what happens from this point out changes how people will remember us. And personally, I think Jasper would want all of us to be remembered as something better than petty infighting.”

Waiting for silence, he clapped his hands, “Alright, good pep talk, everyone. Let’s hug it out and get back to making this home. I’ve got a table loom calling my name.” And he got up and headed for the table loom.

Or he would of if he didn't collapse on the floor right after standing.

[Kiara]

There were many things Kiara wished to say in response to the voices around her. So self-satisfied and superior.

Shifting the blame, acting as though the lions alone -- a meager fraction of the soldiers that had made up the Freedom Fighters -- had caused a majority of the injuries present. Ridiculous. The assorted grab-bag of species and breeds had devoured themselves in the bloodlust, and while Kiara's parents had indeed given rise to the sparks it hadn't been the pride who had fanned the flames to fruition. Loyal they might have been, but the pride had been kept in the dark regarding their rulers' deteriorating minds just as much as the next. Only when it was too late did the truth become clear to all. The choices within a few breaths dictated the fate of an entire kingdom.

Why then were the actions of two being blamed upon the whole?

Later Kiara might recognize the moment her mind slid from its wavering position on the guilt of her parents into an acceptance of the truth, but that matter wasn't the pressing issue at the moment. Keeping everyone that remained alive and unhurt ranked much higher on the to-do list than pondering what had decided that.

The words of the Gourmand, Flynn, and Huela were heard, but it wasn't towards them that Kiara moved. It was clear that no one would listen to another added voice -- especially not a measly lion's. Sometimes the wisest choice was simply silence. That is not to say that she had no reaction. The young lioness was not yet learned enough to keep her emotions hidden completely. The pompous callousness sickened her. Her people were strong in their beliefs. Take only what you need. Kill only when you must.

To take a life for a reason other than to protect or survive went against the Circle of Life. It was unnatural. It was evil.

It was harder still to keep from rising to the bait of Huela's insults. Kiara's claws slid from their sheaths in minute twitches at the ugly words, but she simply stepped between Afua and the rest and placed a paw on his chest to push him gently back towards the pride. All the words proved was that they knew nothing of her kind. 

The voice Kiara used was quiet, meant for Afua and Kopa alone while Flynn's words -- hopefully -- distracted the rest of the room. "Don't, Afua. This isn't the time... Or the place. We are in their land, now. It's their rules."

The lioness tuned back in towards the end of Flynn's speech, head turning back to face him.

'Hug it out'. Maybe doing so literally was out of the question at the moment, but... Maybe a step could be made.

There was one thing the lioness could not resist responding to, however. A gaze like ice turned upon the lizard who had spoken. "Jasper died saving us. We recognize that sacrifice, but we..." Her teeth ground together as she sucked in a breath, praying for some semblance of composure. "We hope... That others would attempt to have a bit of patience with us as we grieve as well."

It took a lot of pride-swallowing to lower herself in a bow to the room, stomach pressed to the wood and nose to the ground. "We have lost everything we have ever known. Not just a leader, but our homes and families as well. We understand that we live because of Jasper's mercy and yours. It will take some time for us to come to terms with everything that's happened, but we appreciate being alive to do so. We don't want to break the peace here."

It was a gamble, speaking the way she did. Acting as though she spoke for those that remained. If even one of the others gainsayed her words any ruffled feathers that she might have smoothed would rise again, and a fight might become inevitable. Kiara just had to hope that they would follow her lead. If this group decided that the pride was more trouble than they were worth... She didn't know them well enough to say that execution was off the table.

Kiara didn't think she could take losing any more of them.

Then Flynn fell to the ground. Surprised at the thud of a body making contact with the floor, Kiara's head shot up.

... Oh. That was probably not a good thing to happen to a human.

[Afua]

Eyes narrow at the lizard like alien as she speaks, did he feel bad that she had been injured, of course he did but at the same time it didn’t have to end in the death of his pride-mate. He blocked out the rest of Huela’s words, ripping his gaze away to look at Kopa more so his front paws really for some reason. Ears swivel forward listening to Flynn now head lifting up slightly watching the man. His focus returned to the Gourmand, keep talking Flynn, you just keep talking.

Then Kiara appeared in front of him.

"Don't, Afua. This isn't the time... Or the place. We are in their land, now. It's their rules."

Afua allowed himself to be pushed back, paw-pads backpedal a step or two.

“Why are we even here then?” Hissed the golden cub, eyes watering with frustrated tears. He watches the future queen talking with the rest, attempting to reason with them.

A loud thud sounds and Afua’s eyes jerk to find Flynn passed out on the ground.

Great. Just great.
~~~~~~~~~~~

Silver remains quite as the beckoning around him reaches tempo, thankfully Flynn seemed to of stepped up, attempting to calm the lion and other soldiers.

The ursid could clearly see that Flynn was in pain which was growing by the second it all came to a climax when the poor man drops from the crate that he was sitting upon.

“Flynn!” Silver barks in alarm rushing to hold the man up. “Lad? Lad!”

[Kopa]

Kopa felt Afua's anger and frustration. He shared it as well. He placed his tail on Afua's shoulder. "Hey, man, I don't like it either. I really don't," he said with a wince.

He sighed and continued. "But where would we go?" he asked. He looked away from Afua and looked at the ground, anger, and sadness boiling back up. He wanted nothing more than to leave, maybe convince Afua or his siblings to come with. But then, they'd be exposed and open to attack.

He noticed a loud thump and turned to see Flynn had collapsed on the floor. Really? That was just peachy, wasn't it? He sighed and shook his head. "Is someone gonna see if he's okay?" he said aloud.

He looked back at Afua with tired and angry blue eyes.

[Dhall]

It’s a good thing Flynn hit the ground when he did.

It would be a lie— and a bit ironic — if the Forge Queen said she wasn’t hot-headed at times. Explaining they had lost a home, but how many others had gone to Africa after losing theirs? Requesting patience for their emotions, yet when it came to how others expressed them, it was yelling and howling.. such a young rule, inexperienced and clumsy. It was like watching a child learn about shapes, but with none of the cuteness.

And all of the frustration.

But Dhall is yanked from her anger quite dutifully, molten gaze shifting to the newly-passed-out ally. Stone tail rolls to follow Silver, stone fingers carefully pressing against his coat sleeve, “Get him flat, Captain. We could use a medic over here!”

The Forge Queen can’t help but loom slightly as the summoned medics begin their work on the lad, lips curved slightly in concern.

“I hope he doesn’t think this gets him out of telling me that story,” she hums, attempting to stave off the concern with humor, “... You know. With all that posturing, I’d forgotten her was an injured rogue for a moment. He certainly speaks like a true leader.”

[Mulan]

  It was hard to not feel frustrated. Even then, in spite of her thoughts telling her to remain understanding, Mulan had chewed and worried her bottom lip. On the one hand, she understood what the cubs were going through; to have their whole world ripped out from under them all at once. But on the other, the same could be said for everyone else. This wasn't about just a few of them sustaining loss. This wasn't only about the humans, the animals, or everyone in between. They were the pieces to the whole. When one suffered, they all suffered. Flynn's words had been a welcome voice of reason, at least, and it brought Mulan some small comfort to hear them.

  Then he collapsed.

  She was moving before she had time to think. Mediation would have to wait. Finding a common ground could come later, when there were less drastically injured to tend. Fortunately, Dhall and Silver had been within grabbing distance of the rogue, and medics had already been called for.

  "Give them space to work!" Mulan coaxed the few onlookers, originally carrying supplies, who had stopped to gawk.

“... You know. With all that posturing, I’d forgotten her was an injured rogue for a moment. He certainly speaks like a true leader."

  Mulan turned to see the Forge Queen kneeling - er, coiling? - over Flynn, almost maternally. The medics were frazzled and exhausted, but dutiful workers, and she was grateful for their quick response.

"He does." She agreed, giving an exasperated nod. Mulan wouldn't have called such a trait a bad thing, but if there was ever an example of how that selflessness could be detrimental, this was it.