Warren Beasts

40: Barleyburg Fireflies @ Jupiter Jackalopes

"Try tickling this ugly bastard!" She says.

It truly is cold outside Jolly Roger's comfy confines, but there's a fire inside her now. The Jackalopes' opponents, the Barleyburg Fireflies, stomp in their brown tubs at the other side of the court. Both teams are busy trying to figure out exactly which portion of their city to defend. The cities are spread out tonight, two or three skyscrapers apiece, across the entirety of the court. The Warren is a patch of hard dirt stretching between the bleachers. Floodlights illuminate its barren, uneven surface.

And inside one of the Jackalopes' manifestation stations, a girl who wasn't even sure she was a girl even a few days ago admires the towering humor she just manifested. It's another mean looking jackalope. Only this time, it's absolutely gigantic, with the sharpest rack of antlers she's ever seen seeming to pierce even the furthest stars in the sky up above.

And it has wings!

Burgundy wings worthy of the most magnificent eagles. The jackalope flaps them experimentally, kicking up dust along the ground below. The winged jackalope takes to the air, raising its head to the darkness. It lets out a cry, incredibly un-bunny-like fangs shimmering in the spotlights. A puff of condensation rolls out from its mouth, to the crowd's delight. The girl sees Dr. Howder clapping enthusiastically.

The girl's entire body swells as she watches her furry chimera, out for vengeance.

Her mother's song comes on, as usual.

But unlike every other time the girl doesn't shy away from listening.

Not anymore.

She doesn't try to clear her mind or block her ears or focus on something else. No, this time the Jackalopes' thaumaturge chooses to embrace it. She opens the manifestation station's door and both Jolly Roger and her flying jackalope humor bound out into the wider court.

While the girl watches the jackalope fly determinedly over to Fireflies turf, the sound of her mother's voice brushes over her like a ghostly cheerleader.

In this moment, the girl realizes two things:

Her name is Wendy.

And she's already flying free.

Gee's fury from Thanksgiving night is still with her.

Good.

She allows it to fuel her.

She's spent every single day this past week studiously ignoring Sage Sawyer.

Just because they're being forced to play in a game together doesn't mean Gee can't continue to ignore Sage for the rest of both their natural lives.

Or so she tells herself.

At least Sage is keeping Storm Zen at the complete opposite end of the court. To be truthful, Gee isn't sure what would happen if either of them closed that gap. She hopes this demilitarized zone between them can hold until they win this game. After that, they can continue to stay as far away from each other as humanly possible. That arrangement would suit Gee just fine.

Her heart throbs. She studiously ignores this as well.

Thankfully, she has more pressing matters to attend to. The game started about fifteen minutes ago, and already the court has been turned into quite the anarchic mess. Gee grins to herself. This is her kind of contest.

The jackalope humor did manage to wreak some havoc over in Fireflies turf, but it's currently flapping above two of their tubs. Apparently harassing them is far more enjoyable for it than actually knocking down any more of their city's buildings.

As for the Fireflies' humor, manifested by their thaumaturge in a tub called Big Damn Hero, it's also done some damage, but it was rebuffed by Storm Zen only a few minutes ago. Appearing halfway between an oversized green farming tractor and a particularly belligerent rooster, Big Damn Hero's humor is busy clawing the ground with its metal talons.

Jackalopes -6, Fireflies -5.

It's high time for Genesis O'Toole to shine.

"Alright. Lemme take care of that thing." She points with Phoenix Beacon's bulky arm in the direction of the red and green beastie.

"Are you sure you can handle it all on your own Gee? Peter's preoccupied with shielding our city and Sage is fending off their jockeys from our own humor. You're not gonna have any backup out there for a few moments, at least." Artie's voice crackles over her comm.

It's comforting to know he's worried, but there's a time and a place.

"Artie. I was literally raised in a barn. I'm pretty sure I can handle a tractor with a bad attitude and feathers sprouting outta its butt." Gee shuts off her comm.

"We'll see who the coward is now, Sawyer." She mutters under her breath. Knots her golden brows together. Charges in with Phoenix Beacon.

Then she grinds her tub to a halt just before their opponents' humor and pulls out a trick she learned from Atari Cain himself just two weeks ago. She extends Phoenix Beacon's hand palm up, curling its fingers backwards in a nonthreatening position. The humor looks at her with the fluorescent yellow hazard lights it has for eyes. If the mechanical buzzard had eyelids, Gee figures it would probably be using them to blink at her right now. The creature cocks its head to the side.

"BockBEEP?" It steps towards her, bobbing its neck forward with cautious motion.

Gee gently rubs the underside of the humor's metallic wattle.

"BockbockbockBEEEEEEEEE-"

POOF!

The humor explodes in a brown cloud of bliss.

Jackalopes win, 14 to -5!

The crowd rises with Gee's own heart.

But even as this sense of triumph swells within her, she feels something else as well.

The hollow sound of her own cowardice.

Speaking of chicken...

There's no escape from it. Not even after this victory.

Gee is slowly realizing Sage was right. She kind of hates her for it.

***

Photo courtesy of chuttersnap on Unsplash: https://unsplash.com/@chuttersnap. Edited.