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Quentin Calamity: Beyond the Storm - Part Two


by haimoku

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When Quentin Calamity opened his eyes, he found himself on solid ground, once again. He could only vaguely recall what had happened in the storm and, indeed, it almost seemed like part of some strange dream to him. He certainly would’ve taken it for one if not for the fact that his clothes were still moist with salty water and he was on a strange shore. Still groggy and somewhat disoriented, the spotted Gelert sat slowly up. The sun was high in the sky, and the ocean was serene before him.

      “You’ve woken, m’lad!” exclaimed Captain Derrick O’Brien joyfully as he leapt from the rock he’d been seated on.

      Quentin squinted up at the old Tyrannian Kougra. “What happened? Where’s your ship? Where are we?” he asked.

      “That storm,” mumbled O’Brien, looking out toward the ocean. “A wave caught ya and I tried to keep it from takin’ ya, but well—I guess I’m not so strong as I used to be, huh?” He laughed, but there was no mirth in it. “We both got dragged over and under. Lucky I still kept a grip on ya through it all, eh, m’lad?”

      “The ship...?”

      “I don’t know what happened to it,” O’Brien said. His face was deeply troubled. “When I came up it was nowhere in sight. Least, not that I could see; the rain was pretty heavy by then, and I was a little too preoccupied to look around much. My crew is a skilled one though—sure as Balthazar is blue, I’m sure that they’re alright.”

      He didn’t sound entirely convinced to Quentin—indeed, a note of worry betrayed O’Brien’s fears. “I’m sure they are,” said the Gelert quietly, to reassure his companion. After a moment, he turned his face away to study their surrounding. “Now, where are we? Have we landed on the shore we left from?”

      “Ah, I don’t think so, m’lad,” O’Brien said, scratching his chin with one claw and clenching his teeth. “I’m fairly familiar with the area I was docked at, and this sure isn’t a place I know.”

      “Where can we be, then?” asked Quentin, furrowing his brow. They were on a broad dirt path which led down to the water. Behind them was a hill, the sides of which were green with grass, except for at the very top where the path ran along it. Quentin Calamity turned and saw trees clustered together in either direction. As Quentin studied the terrain, so did the Kougra ship captain.

      “I don’t know, m’lad, surely I don’t know,” he said at last. He turned his old eyes toward the path. “However, it looks to me as though there must be Neopets somewhere about here. Else wise, I don’t see why there’d be so nice a path.”

      Quentin Calamity couldn’t help but frown, and swish his tail nervously. “Yes,” he said slowly, as he thought about the stories his father had told him of his explorations. “But I can’t help but wonder if they’re the friendly sort or... otherwise.”

      “Well, can’t find out until you set yourself into it, can ya?” said O’Brien, starting up the hill. Quentin flattened his ears and followed.

      “Don’t you think we ought to delay a bit, and think this over? After all, if they’re hostile—“

      “M’lad, you’ll never get anywhere in life assuming everyone must be hostile,” O’Brien told the young Gelert, wagging one claw at his nose.

      Quentin frowned. “If you say so, Captain,” said the spotted Gelert dismissively.

      They reached the crest of the hill together and together had to stop dead in their tracks, so fantastic was the view beyond.

      The broad path continued down the gentle slope of the hill until it reached a town, the architecture of which was such that Quentin had never before seen and wouldn’t have even thought possible if he hadn’t been looking upon it at that very moment with his own eyes. The buildings seemed to be made of cloth which had been sewn together and filled with cotton. Their corners were rounded and each of them had a sort of haphazard lean to their brightly colored walls. Polka dots and stripes of bright, contrasting colors were printed onto the material which formed them, and large patches had been added to them in places with little care to whether the colors matched or not.

      “By Fyora’s crown!” exclaimed Quentin, taking a staggering step forward. “What is this place?”

      For a moment, O’Brien was speechless as he stared down at the city. Finally, his lips curled into a smile and he burst out laughing. “Why, m’lad!” he cried, in-between fits of giggles. “It’s a Plushie World! Of all the absurdities!”

      “Plushie World...?” said Quentin, blinking. Slowly, a smile took his lips as well. “Yes, why—yes, I suppose it is!”

      Their fears done away with, they proceeded toward the town, which appeared even stranger the closer they came to it. As they neared, it became apparent that everything in the town was plush—the buildings, the streets, the street lamps, the trees, the fire hydrants, the doors, the windows, the grass. There were even plushie rocks and plushie mud puddles strewn about the ground! And, it goes without saying, that all the citizens were plushie, as well. One of said citizens—a plushie Hissi—came to greet them as they entered the town. She raised one hand to her mouth, her eyes wide at the sight of them.

      “Goodness!” exclaimed the Hissi. “We’ve never seen your like around here before!” She dropped her voice and slithered back a smidge. “You’re not with that band of Ixi, are you? You’d tell me if you were, wouldn’t you?”

      “Ixi?” asked Quentin. “No—I’m an explorer. My name is Quentin Calamity, and this is Captain Derrick O’Brien.”

      “Oooh, so neat!” squealed the Hissi in delight. “I’ve never met any captains or explorers before! My name is Charlene. It’s a pleasure!”

      “The pleasure’s all ours, m’lass,” said O’Brien, taking her hand and shaking it.

      “We got knocked off a ship and wound up here,” Quentin explained to her. “We’re not sure where we are...”

      “Why, you’re in Plushieville!” Charlene exclaimed with a smile—although, she seemed to always smile, and it was probably the only expression that had been stitched into her. “It’s the softest town in all of Neopia!”

      “I’ll bet,” said O’Brien as they walked along streets which squished softly beneath their paws. “How’d they even build something like this...?”

      “So, where in Neopia are we?” Quentin asked Charlene. “I’ve never heard of Plushieville before.”

      Charlene rubbed the back of her head. “I... don’t really know,” she said at last. “I mean, I guess we’re... We’re by the ocean!” She beamed at him, proud of the deduction.

      Captain O’Brien’s stomach growled audibly and Charlene looked at him with surprise. Chagrined, he said, “My apologies; I missed my supper last night and, well... Have ya got any restaurants ‘round here?”

      “Oh, sure!” said Charlene, throwing her arms wide as she slithered along between the waylaid travelers. “Lots of them! Lots and lots and lots!”

      “What sorta things d’ya have to eat here?”

      “Oh, well,” she answered, tilting her head back. “There are—oh! There’s plushie broccoli, and plushie burgers, and plushie cake—“

      “But isn’t there any food that isn’t plushie?” asked Quentin, for he found that he was rather hungry himself, and his backpack had been swept away by the storm.

      Charlene giggled. “Of course not!” she said, as though it had been a very silly question to ask in the first place. “This is Plushieville! Everything is plushie here!”

      They passed by a plushie window with a plushie pie cooling in the plushie window sill, behind the plushie flower box with the plushie daisies which were growing in it. “I see what ya mean,” mumbled O’Brien, his ears drooping slightly. Plushie pie didn’t look particularly good.

      “Charlene,” said Quentin, as they walked along, passing smiling plushie citizens in the street. “When we first reached the town, you asked if we were with a band of Ixi...”

      “That’s right,” the Hissi said, nodding. “Those horrible Ixi raiders. They live out in the western forest and they’re just vile to us!”

      “We saw some trees a little along the shore we landed on,” O’Brien remarked. “Is that where they come from?”

      “Nope,” she answered the captain. “That’s the eastern forest! They come from the western forest—the Asparagus Woods!”

      “The Asparagus Woods?” O’Brien asked incredulously. “Oh, tell me that isn’t what it sounds like, m’lass?”

      “It’s exactly what it sounds like,” Charlene said, slithering over the soft and squishy ground.

      “Tell me about these Ixi raiders,” Quentin said. “What do they do?”

      “Oh, they come into town and they’re just awful to us!” exclaimed the plushie Hissi, throwing her arms wide. “They rip holes in all the buildings and they tear the stuffing out of our things! They take our neopoints and they just gallop off, back into the woods where we can’t follow them!”

      “Why can’t you follow them?”

      She looked at the Gelert very earnestly and said, “Because we’ll get dirty!”

      The young Gelert furrowed his brow. “You let them do that to you and get away with it because if you give chase you’ll get dirty?” he asked.

      “Of course!” exclaimed Charlene. “We can’t get dirty!”

      Quentin bit his lower lip and O’Brien looked up at him. “What’re ya thinking to do, m’lad?” he asked.

      “I’m thinking to go give those Ixi a piece of my mind,” he answered at length. “It’s not right of them to come here and pick on Neopets who can’t defend themselves.”

      “Very true, very true,” O’Brien said. “Well, m’lad, you can count me along! I’m past my prime, I know, so if it comes to fighting, I’m not sure I’ll be much help to ya. All the same, I’ll give it my best.”

      Quentin smiled broadly at the Kougra sea captain. “Thanks,” he said, feeling grateful to the very core of his heart. He looked to the Hissi, Charlene. “Which way are the Asparagus Woods?”

      She looked around, as though getting her bearings. Finally, she pointed down a street with a small nod. “That way!” exclaimed Charlene. “Straight that way, and you’ll know when you’ve reached them!”

To be continued...

 
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