Miniature Miniatures

-Chapter One-

     Jedidiah was never one for diplomacy. That was Octavius' area of expertise by far. Yet here he stands, outside of the Mayan exhibit, in his cleanest outfit and bolo tie.

     At first he had felt silly, walking around in his Sunday best long after the West's sole pastor had been vacuumed. But when he met with Octavius and saw the man in a purple toga, he felt less embarrassed.

     (Deep down, his brain supplied the word 'pretty'... but that can't be right.)

     "Calm down, Jedidiah. I spoke with him earlier this week. He has promised us safety."

     "I ain't worried," he lies, "Why don't'cha untwist yer own toga? Yer shakin' like a dead bush in a sand storm."

     Octavius swallows. "My pater always said without fear, courage is just stupidity," he clears his throat, "In Latin, of course."

     "Sounds like a smart guy,"

     "Yes..."

     The Mayan leader- who they now knew as Aapo- quickly found them on his ledge (Larry had agreed to release just Aapo so that they could talk) and lead them to a more secluded space.

     "So... Aapo, whadderya called among yer people again?"

     "Ahaw. But this translates roughly to 'King' in English." His accent was thick, but his vocabulary was wide.

     Octavius motioned to the Polly Pocket furniture Nick had thoughtfully painted plain brown. The three sat.

     "I am known among my men as a Praetor. It is nice to finally meet you; we have spent too many years separated by glass."

     "Agreed. I'm a Sheriff. S' more like... I take care 'a the criminals an' oversee projects an' such. We have a mayor too... no need'a confuse ya' though."

     "Sheriff. Praetor. This is good to know," Aapo shifted on the plastic couch, "So. How did you-" He abruptly stopped, a glazed look taking over his face.

     "Aap? Ya' good?"

     The Mayan's eyes began to glow a dingy copper. His face contorted unnaturally into someone else's smile, and when he spoke, his accent, so prominent before, was no longer there.

     "Oh, hello."

     Shock crossed Jed and Oct's faces.

    "Am I not who you were expecting?"

     And just like that, Jedidiah was up, gun pointed to the stranger's forehead.

     "Oh, little one," Not-Aapo stood, grabbed the gun, and slammed the thickest part into Jed's head, rendering him unconscious.

     Now Octavius was up.

     He stabbed into the assailant's thigh with his gladius. Blood streamed down and pooled on the ground.

     "Who. Are you?"

     "Doctor O'Shaughnessy," the man snarled, "And we're about to be better acquainted."

     Dr. S launched himself at Octavius, slamming the Roman's head onto the floor. Octavius felt blood spread under him. He pushed up against his attacker, almost succeeding in pushing him off.

     Until the punching started.

      Octavius took eight punches to the face before defiance lost and darkness came crashing in.