Pecopeco Ikimasu!, A Pecopeco Racing Fic by Karasawa Rui and Redkinoko Options

[redkinoko]

Prologue: Gatecrasher

Sixteen parts of alchol.

Five parts, half-distilled karvodinol.

Eight parts, Byalan lye.

Three parts of wild mandragoran extract.

A woman of her late teens sporting flowing blood-red locks, auburn eyes, and a pearly visage popped the cork of a vitreous flask containing an azure semiliquid and caught scent from its open top. She poured a few drops into her tongue sticking out of her crimson lips.

"Metanoia, extra strong," she said to herself in a jest of confidence.

The wind going against her picked up, carrying the sound of her environment with it - a deafening crowd and a roaring cacophony of thunderous steps.

"Ladies and Gents, we are now on the final lap the Phracon Cup! And what a fight the racers are putting up!" blared the announcer from the stand, "Horus, Joker Jester and Iron Maiden are inch on inch and we can't be certain of who's going to be taking the prestigous prize for this year!"

It was the event that shook the Comodan islands annually. - The Pecopeco racing world's Phracon cup. At the same time each year, Comodo's wide, dusty roads turn into a battlefield of the fastest birds and riders in the region, each one vying for the prize of one million zennies.

For this race though, the contest winners were already a given. Who would be taking which place however, was of another matter. It was the final lap, the rest of the contenders were lagging at least a fourth of a league behind while the top three seeds were inches away from each other.

The crimson-haired lady wearing traditional Aldebaranian alchemist clothing patted her faded-gold coloured pecopeco. It was an odd looking bird compared to its peers, with a saddle of seamless savage hide and various support bandaging along its joints. It looked as though it had a grand past but showed just as well wrought of the times since past.

"Don't worry Horus, we'll own this race by a mile," said the she-rider as she took out a syringe and began siphoning the liquid out of the flask.

Then, a violent jolt nearly caused Horus to lose proper treading. A pecopeco had come up from behind and was now side-to-side with it.

"Nice try, lady, but this ain’t the place for powder-puffers like you," chided the burly rider of the silver-feather pecopeco called Iron Maiden. That said, he pulled the beast's reigns to the far right and violently skirted the girl and her ride dangerously near the inner fence.

"God, I hate stone-age men," retorted the alchemist, "they still think we can’t go any faster than laundry work!"

She slipped the syringe into the back of her pecopeco and pressed in the fluid. The pecopeco acknowledged the injection with a bellowing warble and a short boost of uncontrolled speed. She then took out two round sacks with exposed needles at their ends from her bird's numerous leatherette flask holders attacked on its wings and slipped it between the fingers of her left hands.

The alchemist pulled back a bit and let Iron Maiden through and threw the needled sacks into the advancing opponent. They landed in the feathery buttocks of Iron Maiden where the sacs broke and immediately disintegrated. Within a few seconds, Iron Maiden's left hind leg completely froze, causing the bird to fall to its side and collide with the wooden railings.

Soon enough, a mangle of wooden splinters, dust, beast, man and blood was left behind in a cloud of smoke as the alchemist and the multi-coloured Joker Jester one upped the race.

"Ladies and Gents, with the unfortunate accident of Iron Maiden, the race for the gold is now down to two pecopecos!" shouted the announcer. There were no gasps in the audience. Instead, the roaring went a step further as the list of contenders narrowed down from the 'accident'.

"Now that that's taken cared of, shall we go on and grab the win, Horus?" said the alchemist with a smile on her doll-like face. She looked to her side and watched her final opponent carefully.

The Joker Jester - it was another one of the more **** entries of this year's cup. Its masked rider work a jester's clad and neither spoke much nor laughed – a characteristic unbecoming of a clown. The bird looked as though it had been artificially painted with striking colours, perhaps in a fool's attempt to throw off competition in confusion. More notably, since the races began, JJ had been always in second place – always less than half a second slower.

Not much of a challenge, thought Horus’s rider. To the alchemist's surprise, her rival rider turned to her and said or at least said what sounded like,

"Look behind."

Just then, a blast followed by audience screams resounded from the audience stands five hundred metres from the racing pecopecos. Out of the flying reeds from the fence came a nightingale-feathered berserk-class pecopeco, ridden but unsaddled. From a frontal view - the alchemist's view, the bird looked as though its claws hardly touched the ground.

And to everybody’s view, the blue bird was beginning to catch up.

"What the hell?!" shouted the unbelieving alchemist. At that moment, it didn’t matter if the entrant was illegal or if her real opponent was Joker Jester. What mattered was, the gatecrasher was going a lot faster than Horus!

The red-haired alchemist composed herself once more and stooped down to reduce her drag. Metanoia was starting to kick in and she was sure that Horus reaction to the chemical was both stable and sound. "We still have this race."

One second later, the alchemist turned to her back and didn’t find the intruding bird. It was as though the look-behind fiasco had just been another trick up the playful joker's sleeve.

She swung her face to the right and there it was – her azure nightmare, lightning-quick and winning.


End of Chapter.

[Cruxilon Luciend...]

nice!

[liureiyi]

whoah,.. di pa tapos,.. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/ohmy.gif)


waah,.. feel na feel ko na ung race eh,.. nabitin naman ako,..nyahaha

[~unknown~]

astig neto ah hehe sana may kadugtong pa para masaya

[redkinoko]

Chapter 1: Luca Brasi

"Stop staring and get to work, Luca. I'm not paying you to gawk at the Pecopecos all day." The grizzled stablekeeper all but snarled at the raven-haired Novice who, with bucket of water in one hand and a grooming brush in the other, was staring with open admiration at one of his showpieces. Her dark blue eyes, usually hooded and penetrating underneath the severely-cut bangs of her long, ebony-hued tresses, reminded him more of a child's almost craven gaze at a coveted toy rather than anything else - and this made him smile despite of the fact that they were pressed for time, and he would miss the finals of the Phracon Cup if he stayed any longer.

Then the novice looked at him, all childlike innocence gone from her gaze. The stablekeeper snapped his jaw shut, like a petulant student being silenced by the mere stare of a stern teacher.

"You don't pay me at all," Luca pointed out in a flat monotone. "You keep me around simply because you need someone to watch over the Pecopecos while you bet on the racetrack." She added, her characteristic bluntness making the stablekeeper wince.

"Well...I..." He stumbled. The raven-haired Novice's stare always had an unnerving effect on him. "Anyway, forget about that. Kharthoum needs grooming. We don't know when a buyer would just suddenly step in and look around for a good specimen." He tipped his hat. "I'll be at the finals, see if my pick's even made it to the last lap." The grizzled man let out a guffaw. "Damn racers are getting more and more careless about what happens to other people's rides, much less their own."

"..." Came the novice's spirited reply, still staring at him.

"Okay, okay, I'll be going." The stablekeeper hastened his exit, almost stumbling all over himself. "You don't have to look at me like that, you know."

The stable doors swung closed behind him, punctuated by the sound of a grown man crashing into a pile of metal feed buckets and cursing loudly about it.

"Idiot." Luca said finally, putting the bucket of water down. She waited until she could no longer her the stablekeeper's limping footsteps, and then proceeded to make her rounds with an ease of a regular stablekeep. She knew each and every Pecopeco in the stable, knew them by name, size, color, everything - down to the last detail. One would consider this mastery of the main transport beast of Rune-Midgard uncanny, if one did not consider the passion that drove it.

Luca Brasi had grown up with the feathered beasts. Growing up pretty much as an orphan, she was taken up by a Pecopeco Breeder that worked for the Pronteran Knights - a widower that had not been borne any sons or daughters. Therefore she was not treated as offspring, but rather as a helper. This was fine with the stoic Novice, until the breeder himself died of old age. His stock was sold, and all the profits were given to Luca as her inheritance. Not even shedding a single tear for the man who had taken care of her, she used the money to travel to Comodo - where the action was, as people so quaintly put it.

Having learned much from the Pecopeco Breeder, she was not prepared for the stark difference of working as a RACE Pecopeco stablekeep. It seemed that there was more to take into consideration - what kind of feeds made the Peco's feet stronger, giving better traction, or what made them lose weight so as they ran lighter - all to gain that edge, that advantage that would get them that coveted trophy, and not to mention the massive purse that came along with it.

She had offered not to be paid for her first job, just lodging and food - which the already shorthanded stablekeep gladly agreed to. After that first meeting, she had then set out to memorize everything there was to know about the Pecopecos in the racing stable.

All of them, fine rides - and each would have made perfect battle steeds if they had been bred for that purpose. But there was one Pecopeco that she took pride in taking care of in the stable itself.

Its - or his - name was Kharthoum. A Berserker-class Pecopeco - which denoted his tendency to go wild, sprinting all-out for the finish with complete disregard to his safety and his rider's (not to mention those in its way). A plumage of the darkest blue offsetted his abnormally-bright crimson eyes - giving rise to rumors that he had been a failed Alchemist's experiment. These Luca brushed off, Kharthoum was just a rare breed that normally took ten years to cultivate, and even more to refine.

Kharthoum was a handful, to put things nicely. His stall had been filthy before Luca arrived, his rampages making it difficult for the stablekeep to clean it. And with this degredation came a sickness that he would have died of, had Luca not intervened in time.

This created a bond between stablekeep and Peco, although sometimes Kharthoum's untamed nature had earned Luca some bruises and wounds of her own. As she came upon his stall, he was unusually docile, his proud beaked head gazing towards the direction of the racetrack.

"I know what you're thinking, Kharthoum, and no, you're not allowed to." Luca said, although the small smile on her lips belied the harshness of her words. "Now, let's see if you've managed to get yourself more injuries for me to treat."

Kharthoum merely squaked, surprisingly unaffected by her examination of him. Finding none, she patted the usually-unruly beast on the head.

"Let's hope somebody'll see through the fact that you look more like a monster than a ride and buy you," She murmured fondly, running her hand across the Pecopeco's silky blue plumage. "They always try to buy the best-looking ones, with no regard to how well they run. It's all looks for them, nothing else." Luca shook her head regretfully.

Kharthoum gave another squawk.

"Well, time for me to feed you ingrates." Luca said pleasantly as she moved to get out of Kharthoum's stall. "I'll be right back with the feeds in a moment and--"

She was cut off, when the azure Peco suddenly darted forward, clutching her collar with his beak - perching the surprised Novice onto his back just as he burst out of his stall - flinders and wood grain flying everywhere as he did so. The other Pecopecos brayed, as if cheering the dark beast on.

Luca held on as hard as she could as the Pecopeco stormed out of the stable, his claws leaving deep grooves on the hard-packed earth.

They were headed for the racetrack, and it didn't seem that Kharthoum only wanted to watch.

[liureiyi]

~ hmm,.. ala pa ko masabi,.. ~

i need more updates,.. nyahaha

ty kuya red,.. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/smile.gif)

[StillDaggerX]

Sixteen parts of alchol.

Five parts, half-distilled karvodinol.

Eight parts, Byalan lye.

Three parts of wild mandragoran extract.

FullMetal ung dating ng starting heheh

Water: 35 litres
Carbon: 20 kilograms
Ammonia: 4 litres
Lime: 1.5 kilograms
Phosphorus: 800 grams
Salt: 250 grams
Saltpeter: 100 grams
Sulfur: 80 grams
Fluorine: 7.5 grams
Iron: 5 grams
Silicon: 3 grams
15 other elements in small quantities

[redkinoko]

Chapter 2: Grudge

"Dammit, we will not be humiliated in this run-down tournament!" shouted the redhaired Alchemist as she watched in frustration the overtaking bird. "Give it all you've got, Horus!"

The chemically driven bird’s pacing nearly doubled because of the Metanoia but somehow, the improvement paled compared to the godly speed of the azure opponent. Soon enough, Horus was left in a cloud of dust, finishing the final mile a good three seconds later than the blue bird who ended up breaking the tape reserved for the first place.

After breaking the tape, Kharthoum finally screeched to a stop. Amidst the rising dust, a Luca bordering on dazed jumped out of the bird and started chastising the bird, "You should know, Kharthoum, that not all birds have to run to have a use. You do that again and you'll be having a nice spot at my dinner plate."

She then brushed the feathers along the bird's slender neck the same way she did back at the stables. “But, I’d be lying if I say I didn’t enjoy that.”

Then, the crowds.

Suffice to say, much of the rejoicing went to Luca Brasi and her new ride. The stable girl didn’t even realise that she had actually done something significant till the crowds had literally swamped her and the surprisingly docile bird.

"Who are you and what is your bird's name?" ecstatically yelled a reporter at the stable girl.

It was a complete surprise for Luca, who at that time had publicity as the last thing on her mind.

"Uh.. my name? I am Luca Brasi and this bird," replied the girl in a starkly undertone as she patted the blue-feathered pecopeco, "This bird is Kharthoum!"

In a way, she won that tournament. She received no prize for it but she won something greater - a proof that she was destined for greater things.

"We still won, didn't we?" said the half-shocked, half-delirious Alchemist to her Horus when they arrived at the crowded fields. She was losing herself in a flurry of facts that couldn’t have been put more bluntly in her face. She won the cup, but she lost to another bird.

High above the racing grounds, a seasoned half-bald man and a flaxen-haired youth, both wearing worn-out capuchin robes, were wearing smiles on their faces. One could have passed them off as winners of some bet but a second look at the old man's glittering eyes would tell tale that they was after something else.

"That bird and rider, they have the doublestep skill," monotonically commented the old man as he stared at the crowd gathering near Luca.

"Doublestep?"

The old man pointed at the blue pecopeco and went on to explain, "Doublestep is an intermediate skill that can only be performed when a rider and his bird have completely synchronised their movements to the point that a countermovement from the rider at the very moment the pecopeco's claw touches the ground allows the claws to strike soil with twice the energy and return to the contracted position at twice the speed. More than any chemical, that gives the bird twice the speed than it can normally attain on its own. It's a difficult trick to execute and an even more difficult trick to perform in succession."

The youth turned to the old man. "But it could have been a glitch. How could anybody from this league perform such a move?"

The old man chuckled. "More importantly, doublesteps are usually done for only less than fifty meters to avoid injuring the bird and risking desyncronisation which could slow the bird down drastically. That bird did doublestepping for a good five hundred meters."

And with that said, silence fell once again between the two monkish men who returned to their after-race smirks as they went on with their quiet observations.

Meanwhile, at the less popular end of the finish line, a tournament winner deprived of her victory cheers was brooding over her stolen glory at the pedestal of winners.

"Hey! Over here! Hello? I'm supposed to be the winner of this cup! Take my pictures instead!"

The enigmatic Joker just stood at the second prizewinner's pedestal as the grand prizewinner bobbed up and down in frustration slightly above him.

"I didn’t see you breaking the tape in the finish line," interjected the jester in a mocking tone.

This, suffice to say, was enough to get the alchemist all fired up. Nobody makes fun of her - especially when she's at the losing end.

"BUT SHE CHEATED! THAT GIRL JOINED THE RACE DURING THE LAST FIVE MINUTES!" blared the crimson-haired girl, "AND WHAT DO YOU CARE ANYWAY? YOU CANT EVEN BEAT ME!"

Jester looked into the eyes of the Phracon Cup winner and raised his left index finger. A needle still wet with solution perfectly balanced at its tip.

"I wouldn't be too critical of cheaters if I were you. The hiss of a snake often tells a tale that another is nearby."

Cold sweat drops started forming in the alchemist's forehead. "You wouldn't dare..."

Jester turned at the gathering crowd at the far end of the field and replied, "All I'm saying is that what you need between you two is a clean rematch. Just too see who's really faster."

The alchemist looked at the rider of the dark-feathered pecopeco. She then remembered something from the finished race.

"By the way, I've been wanting to ask this since the race, how did you know that that pecopeco was going to come up from ..."

She turned for the answer but found the Jester was gone, leaving on the pedestal a card - a Joker Card.

"A rematch huh?" said the alchemist to herself as she picked up the image of a playful Jester with multicoloured Pecopecos in the background.

The mysterious joker was right; the only way to really know who could have really won was through another match.

And this time - the alchemist was more than a hundred percent sure of the victor.

End of Chapter.


Notes:
It's time to get technical. Doublestep is loosely based on the same logic as reverse-pendulums on robotic legs IRL. The reverse-pendulums dont exactly speed up the movement of bipedal mobots but they do ensure that the next step of the robot stays parallel to the ground. In theory, if these pendulums swing at the same rate as the stepping of the feet, it can actually aid in the transfer of momentum from the leg to the ground.

[liureiyi]

nyahaha,.. talo,... (IMG:style_emoticons/default/tongue.gif)


gee,.. a rematch,.. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/mellow.gif)


thanks for the update kuya red,.. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/smile.gif)

[Renzeiken]

Repost, Repost. Hurry up with the old posts and slap on the new updates red.

[Pancreasdaemon]

I missed this funny and enjoyable fanfic. I remember back then that it was left uncontinued in the old boards. Hope you guys would continue and finish it this time. More power.

[Cruxilon Luciend...]

another masterpiece from the famous redkinoko... great work mate.

[redkinoko]

Chapter 3: Escape

Luca patted Kharthoum's neck as both of them made their way back to the stables, the raven-haired Novice leading the Berserker-class ride by his reins. She marveled at the fact that the Pecopeco seemed almost tame, up to the point that he was being affectionate, occassionally leaning forward and nudging her gently with his massive beak. Although a bit puzzled at his general change of behavior, she knew what had caused it - the energy that he needed for rampages and tantrums had already been used in the race itself, although Kharthoum himself did not look the least bit fatigued.

"Well, at least I know what to do the next time you get the urge to go crazy on me again, you dumb bird," Luca said fondly. Kharthoum responded by nudging her forward again.

Due to the relaxed pace the Novice took, they reached the stables just as the sun was setting - and Luca herself looked quite ready for a nap, yawning occasionally. This sleepiness was duly erased, however, when she heard a cacophony of shouting voices INSIDE the stable itself.

"Kharthoum, stay here." She murmured to the Pecopeco, tying off his reins to the stable gates. "I'll see what's the matter."

Kharthoum squawked in acknowledgement, folding his clawed legs underneath him as he rested.

"A million zenny for Kharthoum!" A pudgy man yelled as Luca peeked inside - the other stalled Pecopecos seemingly annoyed at the din, snapping and clawing the ground restlessly. "No! TWO million!" Screamed another.

"I have two million, gentlemen!" The stablekeep roared, his cheeks flushed in evident drunkeness. "Two million for Kharthoum, who overtook Horus, the Phracon Cup winner!" He blinked at Luca, who had frowned and made to move away - and then grinned at her. "Luca, Luca! Dear girl, you knew that Kharthoum was going to be something, eh? The reason why you took care of him more than the others, eh?" He guffawed. "Sly, sly girl you are. Now hurry along and get him prepared, I think I've got a buyer--"

"Two billion for Kharthoum." Announced a flat, monotonic voice from behind the crowd. A cloaked figure stood up, his face hidden by the cowl he wore over his head.

The sheer absurdity and extravagance of the price silenced all.

"SOLD!" The stablekeep shouted, recovering himself. "Kharthoum is yours, sir!"

Luca narrowed her eyes at the cloaked stranger, one hand clenching to a fist.

Think again.

Breaking into a run, the raven-haired Novice jumped onto Kharthoum, who rose easily as if he had been waiting for her to do so. Slashing his reins with a flash of her dagger, Luca held on tight.

"Run, Kharthoum. The fastest you can manage."

Kharthoum almost roared in reply as he did so.

[liureiyi]

i wonder who is that cloaked figure,... (IMG:style_emoticons/default/mellow.gif)


weee,. i need more updates,.. aheheh

/thx kuya red,.. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/smile.gif)

This post has been edited by liureiyi: Aug 23 2006, 06:53 PM

[Cruxilon Luciend...]

hmmm.. cloaked??? little red riding hood perhaps??

[liureiyi]

yay!!! galing sa page 6,.. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/wacko.gif) BUMP ko lang po yung mga fic na sobrang nakatatak na sa utak ko at nabiten na ko,.. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/sad.gif)


/vic

[redkinoko]

Chapter 4: Sunset Duel

"Catch that thief! I should have known that I was keeping a snake beside my aves!" yelled the stablekeep as he futilely skimpered towards the speeding Khartoum, "That's my two billion zennies!"

The cloaked man who had offered the highest bid stepped forth from the distraught crowd and threw a velvet pouch at the fuming stablekeep.

"We had a deal, remember? That bird is mine now so I suggest you go back to your own business. I lost the bird. Leave the girl alone."

The stablekeep was speechless. Gasps and murmurs billowed among the other bidders. The old man opened the pouch marked with a red heart and found it containing no less than a rolled cheque signed for five billion zenies.

"That bird couldn't be in any better hands," said the benefactor in at trailing tone as he turned back from the bird pan and started walking away.

The old stablekeep could only scratch his scarcely covered head at what just happened. The strange man practically threw away in a matter of seconds what a stablekeep could never earn in his entire lifetime.

"Take care of Karthoum until we meet again, Luca" whispered the man as his cloak rippled from the wind and partially exposed a pale lower face and two overlapping J's tattooed above right to a toothed smile, "and enjoy my first gift to you at the Modancourt crossroads."

-----------------------------

At about the same time, Luca was just starting to realise that spiriting off a prized bird wasn’t going to be easy for a fragile conscience as they rode along the vast coastal strip leading to Modancourt, the biggest pier of that island.

"Why am I even doing this? I'm no racer and now, I have no job either. All because you had to run that stupid race! If you didn’t have to brag to everybody your speed, you'd still be... we'd still be..."

Luca paused. Just a few hours ago she was wondering when something interesting would ever happen in her life. And now that she's smack-dab in the middle of her own adventure, or funeral procession (it was quite hard to distinguish at that time), she was starting to wish she didn’t want to be any part of it.

"We'd still be leading boring lives in that prison-of-a-pen," said the stablegirl, countering her previous statements.

Soon enough, they reached the main crossroads of the island. At the very middle of that road stood a pecopeco and an unsaddled girl. Her windblown bright carmine hair and white complexion was familiar to Luca but she didn't quite recognise her or the Pecopeco. She was wearing sleeved brown cotton alchemist robe cut specifically at the sides of her voluptuous legs to accommodate front-saddle riding.

"What took you so long? I've been waiting here since the races finished. An old card told me you'd be passing here so I waited. But damn, it's been hours already!"

Luca strained to figure out who the girl was. She really couldn’t. Waiting? She wasnt even planning on passing here till a few hours ago.

"Oh, so you were in that race too!" replied the rather cheery stablegirl.

"I, am Bloodberry Vorontsov of Al de Baran, winner of the Phracon Cup and the only alchemist in these parts qualified with meta-alchemy of racing potions! And me and my Horus are here to defeat you and your strange bird!"

Luca stared at the red-haired girl from top to bottom and gave a faint shrug.

"Who's asking anyway? You're wasting our time."

"You owe me a fair fight, you cheater. What you did in that race was a fluke."

"Cheater? I wasn't even competing. And besides, you got your Phracon Cup, didn't you?" said Luca in nonchalance, "Sorry, but just like in the race we had a while ago, I'll pass. I've got more important things to do."

Bloodberry fumed at her being ignored. There was no way in hell anybody would refuse a challenge from her. She needed this. More than any victory she has had before, she needed to fight and win this!

"Come back here, ****!" she cried out in desperation.

And as though the dark bird understood it, Karthoum halted from its march. Luca then followed up, speaking the same frequency as her ride, "What did you say?"

"****. That bird. It has the dirty blood of an Ebonegrazer. Ebonegrazer, I reckon, because of that cursed plumage. It's not even pure. The lightness of the shade in the tail feathers show hints that its mother was a Comodan Steeplechaser. Those species are probably the worst in existence and shouldn’t be allowed to mate with other pedigree," explained Bloodberry in a very insulting tone.

Luca turned her ave at the alchemist. This time, she had a dead serious face. "This bird has been with me for a long time and he can be matched with any bird in Midgard. You will take that back. I will race you and you will take that back with your cheeky lips."

"And if you lose?"

Khartoum reared its crimson eyes gleaming from the sunset at the Bloodberry. A cold wave went right through the Alchemist as she caught its sight. Those eyes, they cant be from a normal Ebonegrazer or Steeplechaser, she thought for a second.

"You can dream of your prize but you still wont be getting anywhere near it," replied Luca as though she was voicing over the dark bird's thoughts.

The crimson sun touched the coastal flats of Comodo and set a fiery shade on everything that it could. It was a tranquil firestorm, and the two riders were at the very middle of it.

"If you lose, you will be my slave for a year. I will teach you the true meaning of pecopeco racing."

Luca pulled back her hair and tied it with a thin leather lace. Her bangs dropped down from the sides and accented her intimidating eyes. Bloodberry took out a syringe filled with the same fluid she had used on the bird earlier. She tauntingly pointed the needle at Luca.

"Talk is cheap. Let's race."

End of chapter.

Jet's notes:
Steeplechasers are special breeds of racing animals (i.e. horses, dromedary camels, certain breeds of dogs) designed to run obstacle course races. In real life, these beasts have very strong limb power and above-par muscle control.

Ebonegrazers dont have any real-life counterparts. The term is derived from the natural behaviour of these Pecopeco's to be born completely black or very dark blue, from claw to beak, down to the last feather. They later shed the colour around the follicular areas (beak and claws) but retain the dark shade in the plumage. They are hard to train and usually are found only in the wild, hunted for food or sport.

[prophetrahl]

hahahahahahaha, if not for the bump, red would have forgotten about this fic

so the JJ is somewhat a prophet or somethin that sees the future, and he is the one who bought luca the pecopeco

keep the updates coming

[liureiyi]

yay! pandadaya pa rin yung gagawin nung Alchemist,.. /swt

waaah,.. Naalala ko tuloy yung White Fang,.. gaah,.. di ko alam kung bakit,..

weee keep the updates comin' kuya red!! thank you ~~ (IMG:style_emoticons/default/smile.gif)

[redkinoko]

Chapter 5: The Race

"We'll show 'em, Horus," Bloodberry muttered underneath her breath, staring daggers at Luca - who possessed such an unnatural ease and unity with her Pecopeco, they might as well have been one sentient being rather than the archetypal rider and steed. It was uncanny, downright unbelievable – and the crimson-haired Alchemist sweated a bit as the light that glowed in Luca’s ruby eyes seemed to also blaze in Kharthoum’s slitted ones.

Then she grinned. Synchronization with your ride wouldn’t matter much if you were being left in the dust – not even if both rider and Pecopeco were practically family, it all came down to how fast one can go, and how long you can maintain that speed. Sure, one can romanticize racing with talk of being one with your beast, quick reflexes, even split-second timing – but cut away every embellishment, every poetic flourish that many a bard had laid on thick onto the sport – and one is left with simply how hard you can push yourself and how badly you wanted to win.

Bloodberry Vorontsov had plenty of both. And she was not planning on losing for a second time in a row.

Turning back to Horus, the crimson-haired alchemist soothed the somewhat weary-looking Pecopeco, patting his dented beak. It cawed softly, its flightless stubby wings flapping once as it acknowledged the fact that a race was forthcoming – but the almost regretful look in its apple-green eyes told its rider that it might be its last.

“One more race,” The Alchemist pleaded silently. “One more win, Horus, and we can both finally go back home.”

Horus cawed again, and Bloodberry smiled. Hooking one foot into a stirrup, the crimson-haired girl pulled herself up onto the saddle, as easily and as naturally as a knight would handle a sword, or an archer nocking an arrow into his favorite bow. As if she had been riding all her life, and she had been.

“Ready when you are, half-breed,” Bloodberry drawled as she led Horus beside Kharthoum. She grinned at Luca, who looked up at the insult – the innocent-looking novice’s small lips turning into a frown. “Contemplating on whether to back out or to just run away?”

Luca’s frown etched deeper into her mouth but she made no verbal sign that she even heard the scathing barbs. “We’ll race from here, down that stretch of beach-“ She pointed with one gloved hand at the sunburnt coastline of Comodo. “-and finish at the Kafra.”

Bloodberry nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Try not to get cocky. Your ride is used to running on packed dirt tracks.” Luca intoned, a smile that bordered on a smirk taking place of her frown. “I’m not sure how you’ll fare against wet sand and pounding surf.”


“Horus can take any terrain, any weather, ANY TIME,” Bloodberry replied hotly, leaning forward on her saddle. “Don’t talk so big just because you’ve won a race that lasted for five laps but you burst in on the last.” There was a loud cracking of leather as the alchemist’s fingers curled around tightly on Horus’s reins. “Nothing but a fluke, that’s all there is to it.”

“Suit yourself,” Luca shook her head, clucking her tongue. Kharthoum gave a hearty squawk, and the raven-haired novice laughed. “Oh, that’s mean, Kharthoum, really mean. You should be ashamed of yourself—“

“What?” Bloodberry snapped. “What are you laughing about? What are you—“ The alchemist blinked. “You can understand him?”

“Heavens, no,” Luca giggled. “If I did, I wouldn’t be wasting my time riding Pecopecos. But I can guess pretty much what he was trying to say.”

“And that is?”

Luca patted Kharthoum’s head. “He said not to talk too much – you might swallow up the sand that we’d be making you eat.” She shook her head again, chastising the azure-feathered Pecopeco. “Mean Kharthoum. Bad Kharthoum.”


Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Bloodberry shivering in an embarrassed, apoplectic fury.

“Nice Kharthoum.” Luca whispered. “Remember to buy you a treat tonight.”


The Cornutus never saw them coming.

As it was, it had just scrabbled out of the foam-flecked surf, in search for food - a pack of obeaunes had driven it away from the myriad of algae-covered corals it was peacefully munching on, the mermaids chatting away at their unintelligible language (well, at least to the molllusk). Irritated, snapping its pincers in an agitated staccato rhythm, the cornutus began to make the arduous journey to the shoreline - where, hopefully, most of the obeaune population had been wiped out by humans.

Making its slow way across the sand, the cornutus spied a piece of discarded pet feed half-buried in the shoreline - and immediately scuttled to it, its pincers clicking in hungry anticipation. Of course, it would not have been THAT eager if it had been paying attention to the fact that the ground began to rumble underneath it, or that a furious cloud of dust was heading its way.

The mollusk made a satisfied noise as it began to feed, totally oblivious to the gigantic clawed foot that hovered above it.

Ignorance, as they had always said, was bliss.

==

Speed is a dangerous thing[i], Luca dimly heard a gravelly voice speak in her mind, [i]a verbal memory that she couldn't quite place. The faster one goes, the slower the things around him or her moves. Now, I suppose speed IS the key to winning races - but you have to realize that you'll have to match the pace your ride is currently on. I'm not talking about physical speed, your Peco takes care of that - it's your mental speed that counts. Think as fast as your ride is going. If you fall behind or even miss a single step, you're dead. The racetrack is no place for slowpokes.

And Luca took this advice to heart - or at least, tried to. Gripping Kharthoum's reins with both hands - the slack looped and lashed around her wrists, just in case her fingers slipped- the raven-haired Novice tried her best to match the azure-feathered PecoPeco's pace, taking in the scenery that they literally blasted past, details, shapes and colors blurring into one incomprehensible blur. Trying to hear was also a problem - the hot, salty air of the sea roared in Luca's ears, whipping her ponytail about and blowing directly into her face.

But she held firm. Untrained as she was in riding, she knew how the flightless birds were, what made them tick, what their limits were. And sure as hell, she knew Kharthoum from the last feather on his body down to the last notch in his claws - and speaking of limits, unbelievable as it may sound, he wasn't even reaching his halfway mark yet.

Luca turned her head to look at her opponent - Bloodberry - and her eyes narrowed as her stare was met with one of equal vehemence.

They had both started out strong, the sand exploding behind them as both Pecopecos hit full speed in their first stride - and it had been a close, neck-to-neck battle, with either ride topping out or dropping back. Absurdly equal, ridiculously tied.

But not for long.

Luca grimaced as she saw, in the corner of her vision, Bloodberry reach for her Metanoia syringe - and drove it deep right into the spot where a network of arteries lay beneath Horus' already tightening muscles. Immediately, the yelllow-feathered ride gave a burst of speed that carried both it and its rider ahead - but the lead they got was short-lived.

A sickening snap echoed across the beach as Horus' left leg finally gave way.


This race was over.

Bloodberry closed her eyes, teeth gritting in frustration as the all-too-familiar pain of tears pricking her eyes began to make its presence felt. Her hands, sticky red with Horus' blood, curled into fists. She had won the first, but had been defeated in the most humiliating way possible - by losing a challenge that she herself had lodged.

Shame. Public Humiliation.

Horus squawked softly as it lay on its side, the massive bird unable to rest even the slightest weight on its damaged limb. The break had split open its skin, but the blood loss was superficial compared to the actual injury. Bloodberry knew little enough about injuries, but she knew that it was the end of Horus' career - and hers.

So this is how it ends? Bloodberry shook her head, staring hard into her blood-caked fingers. Beaten by an amateur and a half-breed that hadn't been in the track for more than two minutes. Defeated by a novice and her pet Peco. How can I go home and show my face--

"What are you doing, sitting there and blubbering like a child?" The Ebonygrazer's rider said, in an all-too-sharp voice that made the alchemist wince. She didn't look up, even when the raven-haired Novice knelt beside her and took her hands in hers, pressing them into Horus' broken leg.

"Stop the blood from flowing. Pressure, you pezzonovante, pressure." The novice chided as she reached for Horus' harness, cutting a strip of leather from the straps. "Good thing the break's clean. He'll be able to walk, maybe run, but racing is out of the option." She clucked her tongue in annoyance. "Serves you right for using chemicals--"

"GO AWAY!" Bloodberry screamed at her. "You've already beaten me! WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT?! Just leave me alone and--"

A sharp crack sounded as the novice swiftly slapped the alchemist across the face.

"You're from the city and yet you behave like this?" The child shook her head, her crimson eyes piercing into Bloodberry's own. "Think of it this way - I only took up your offer because I knew you wouldn't stop bothering me if I didn't. I was doing you a favor." She frowned. "I never knew it'd come to this, however. But then again, Horus needs to retire gracefully so I'll give him the chance that not a lot of owners would have. You should give him the rest of his life back, too."

"W...what do you mean?"

"Set him free." The novice said as she began to expertly bind Horus' leg into a crude splint, but an effective one. Soon the bird's erratic breathing eased, and it squawked once more as it felt the pain no longer. "He's done enough. And I have, too." With that, she stood up and made to leave, her black-feathered ride waiting for her. "Now if you'll excuse me--"

"WAIT! What's..." Bloodberry stood up, catching the novice by her shoulder, who then gave her a disinterested look. "I just want..."

"No need." The novice shrugged. "Oh, and the name's Luca. Luca Brasi, if you want to know." And then she smiled, a genuine one. "Good race, by the way."

[liureiyi]

ang tagal ng update pero sulit naman,.. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/smile.gif)

kakaibang pagkapanalo,.. *sighs*

ano na kaya ang mangyayari kay Luca? e kay Kharthoum? ~ nice names ahihi~


wag po sanang tumagal masyado ang update,.. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/mellow.gif)

[redkinoko]

Chapter 5: Picking Up The Pieces

"Well, like I said, we're in a hurry so if you'll excuse us," said a Luca with an ear-to-ear smile. She then reined Kharthoum and turned towards the road. "We still have a boat to catch."

"What? Say you're not planning on leaving us in the middle of nowhere now, are you?" stammered the sandblasted alchemist.

Luca didn’t even bother to look back. "Hey, It was your challenge that put you there, remember? I don’t owe you not'in. Besides, I don’t pick-up hitchhikers. And even if I did, you'd still have to answer to my 'no-good half-breed'! Khart here doesn’t look like he's going to let you on if you were the last person on earth."

Kharthoum suspired through his dark beak and gave a deep bellow as though agreeing with his rider. Luca waved back at the vanquished with a toothed smile. "I'll be seeing ya'"

"Damn it! Come back here!" Bloodberry's veins swelled along with her frustration. "How dare you turn your back on me, Luca Brasi!"

But the novice and her dark ride paid no heed as they disappeared into the road far ahead.

Time flew unnoticeably for the alchemist as the philosophy of life as she knew it slowly sank with the sand all around her. Before she even knew it, the sun had disappeared along with her opponent.

Figuring that there's no real way that Horus can go any further without reopening its wounds, she turned her attention to the poor fowl lying by the dry sand. And perhaps, for the first time in their career as racers, she saw the bird as something more than a key to winning. Its majesty, or whatever was left of it, had long gone from the bird. "I guess you've had it really hard all this time," gently whispered Bloodberry as she stroked the feathers mucked with blood and sticking beach sand of the golden pecopeco, " but you did good, Horus. You did good."

There was acknowledgment in the broken bird's eyes. It was barely moving with all the loss of blood. But thanks to the novice's first aid earlier, it didn’t look like the injuries were getting any worse.

"Let's finish this last race together so no dying out on me ‘til I say so, okay?"

Slow steps of webbed-feet breaking the rising tides broke Bloodberry from her melancholic appreciation. She turned towards the dark road to Edencourt not too far away and saw a most familiar ride.

[redkinoko]

"Great," said Bloodberry as she shifted to her usual mode of angst, "You pray for help and the gods send you a circus."

And then there was the circus.

"So how did it go?" gleefully greeted a masqueraded rider saddled on a rather colourful strain of a mature DuneStrider as he surfaced out of the dark surrounding flats.

"Go away, Joker. I've had enough of losers for one day," the carmine-haired alchemist stood up and faced the approaching jester.

"Touchy. I was just here to check out the action for myself. Unfortunately, I got delayed. Too bad for me I didn’t get to see you lose, huh?"

Bloodberry almost returned to her infuriated self after hearing such chiding from the jester. "Listen, are you here to just say that? If that's the case I suggest that you go do that somewhere safer, like, say, not in front of me?"

"Easy there. I've had enough of fights today. But I suppose you need a rematch with that spunky novice? I think I can arrange that."

"No," The alchemist stared at the ground she was standing on, "We lost. I lost."

"So what are your plans now?"

Bloodberry's expression changed into languid lethargy as she stared at the eventide ocean. Her silence was almost as bizarre as everything that had happened that day.

The jester hopped off the dunestrider, feet landing on the soft sands of the beach. He grabbed the bird's reigns and gently tug it towards the alchemist. "I can give you two a lift to the Port of Edencourt."

The alchemist smiled a bit. "Thanks. I was planning on going to Morroc too. Please take my bird there. But I think I can walk on my own."

She whispered to herself, "I can."

On my own.

Bloodberry rose from Horus's side and faced the opposite end of the road that led to the main town.

The Jester scratched his head as the Alchemist started walking back to Comodo. "Isn't Morroc on the other end of this road?"

[redkinoko]

"I have to make sure first that this doesn't happen again. Not all roads have to be pointing towards your goal. Until then, take good care of Ol' Horus."

"Tch. What a bossy attitude," Joker crossed his arms and smirked. From a distance, he shouted, "This bird will have a its place of peace. I hope you find yours too!"

"Who says anything about throwing in the towel? When nature does not give what an alchemist wants, he twists her arms until she does. I'll see you soon, clownboy."

And with that, the Alchemist left the racing scene, not to return until she had the right to do so.

Meanwhile, the jester stared at the injured Horus quietly listening to the conversation. The man then turned to his ride and stroked its slender nape. "Well Sarzuela, I guess you'll just have to compensate for additional load."

The colour-streaked bird gently nodded and kneeled down to prepare for the loading of the bird that looked much heavier than it. Jester effortlessly scooped up the bird with his hands and passed it on to the back of the DuneStrider. The coloured bird hardly flinched form the weight, and in a demonstration of tremendous strength it rose from its feet with no trace of buckling from the sheer weight of Horus.

"Our work here is done. We should get going too," said the Joker as he gently escorted the two birds back into the road to the port.

More Notes:
DuneStriders are said to be the oldest of the domesticated breeds of Pecopecos. As their name implies, they usually exist in dry, arid environments. They possess an uncanny ability to withstand the elements of the desert environment, going for weeks without water and using their wide feet to navigate the shifting, hot sands. Though they are usually used to race only with their own breed, there are records of Dunestriders outpacing other breeds of Pecopecos used for racing. Natural shade of their plumage is bright orange. So the feathers of Joker Jester’s Sarzuela is probably dyed.

[redkinoko]

Chapter 6: A Greater Power

"A power greater than my chemicals," said the carmine-haired alchemist to herself as she trudged back to the Comodan downtown at a fabre's leisurely pace and in deep thought, "wouldn't that be a sight to behold? If only it were that easy to find!"

Bloodberry Petrunov kicked one of the roadstones along her way with a mood of both disgust and uncertainty. So all these years, she had been pursuing the wrong track, she though to herself. And it had to be proven to her by a mere novice!

Now she had to start from scratch.

The round stone she had kicked was swallowed immediately by the darkness around her. She almost forgot that it was the dead of the night already and that traveling on roads without company, and worse, without a ride is thrice as dangerous.

"What was I thinking?" she immediately took out her throwable syringes loaded with emerald fluids and clipped them between each of the finger extensions of her right-hand glove. "Better protected than sorry", she murmured to herself.

She looked into the distance. Surprisingly, she found flashing light not too far away.
Figuring that anybody up to no good wouldn't be so dumb as to go around with a light with them, she went off to meet the light bearers.

[redkinoko]

She stopped a good five meters from the lamp hanging by a portable staff that radiated the aura that she saw from far away. Bloodberry stared down at the ground she was standing on and watched as the dancing light of the lantern outlined what would appear to be sand turned into glass, mixed along with dark residues of what seemed like scorched coal.

She looked around her and saw two dead pecopecos slumped by the side of the road. Two men in drab overcoat Comodan police outfits that fluttered with the strong sea winds were inspecting the carcasses.

"Good evening, officers," the alchemist greeted with a hint of westerly accent while secretly tucking her syringes back into her bag, "what seems to be the cause of ruckus here?"

"Oh, you startled me," replied the shorter of the two in a subtle baritone, "startled me halfway to Nifleheim, yes you did!"

The birds didn't look like they were from the wild as Bloodberry inspected their harnesses. Metal studs and spikes embedded into the leather straps around the faces of the dead pecopecos coupled with lightweight elune mesh for armour indicated a more violent nature of lifestyle.

"Roadwarriors," replied the taller of the two policemen, "those poor fowls belonged to gang members who claim this roads as their territory. They use steeplechasers like those to bandit off traveling merchants or anything else that moves."

A gust of sea wind blew her hair back, causing Bloodberry to tuck her bangs between her ears. She stooped down lower to the dead pecopecos and traced back their clawprints. The prints along the sandy surface of the road had very large intervals between them up to where they crashed into the roadside – telltale sign of a fast chase.

Bloodberry found the situation so awkward, it was almost funny, "They don't look so dangerous to me now."

[redkinoko]

"Someone," the shorter of the policemen said while arching back head upward in a hint of strong disapproval of what he was about to say,� or something scorched those birds and whoever was riding them while running at top speed."

Bloodberry felt the feathers of one of the dead steeplechasers, the follicular growth around each feather had meshed into deformed winglets with a very dark shade of gray. They were burned all right. But they weren’t burnt by fire coming from one direction.

The feathers had been cooked evenly as though it had been scorched by wind itself.

"What do you think could have done this?" asked Bloodbery as she stared at the glazed clawprints of what appeared to be a three-fingered pecopeco.

"Whatever it is," followed up the other of the two policemen, "its feet was hot enough to scorch even the ground that it ran on - hot enough to turn it into glass. I suppose the riders of these two are lucky to have walked out of this mess alive, if ever."

The alchemist looked back to where she and Luca had fought that afternoon. The clawprints lead to their direction but the prints had vanished along the tidal flats.

"Can I ask you a question, ma'am?" asked one of the policemen, Bloodberry couldn't really tell which one of the two were asking anymore.

Bloodberry turned to the investigators and answered, "Yes?"

"Did come across anybody riding a beast of burden on your way here?"

Bloodberry closed her eyes and said with a tinge of smirk on her face, "Nobody. I didn't see anybody."

Bloodbery hid the clandestine smile with her free flowing hair as she gave a bow of courtesy to the policemen as she went on her way. The two investigators tipped their tall hats in acknowledgement and went back to observing the carcasses.

"I am an alchemist," she said to herself as she resumed basking under self-thought once more, "and this is the greater power that I must look for."

[redkinoko]

Chapter 7: The Race Broker

Luca stroked the glistening manefeathers of an unusually restive Kharthoum under the glow of a full Comodan moon. The moon rays made uneasy tranquility of the beast containment area near the stern of the century-old creaking wooden ferry that made absolutely no real resistance against the wild ebb and flow of the Comodan channel. Several other unattended pecopecos were in the arrays of stables - most of the packbearers and dunestriders headed for Morrocan destinations or beyond.

"What now, old friend?" she told the beast, half-asking herself at the same time, "We no longer have a place to go home to. We're practically fugitives."

Kharthoum blinked its glowing crimson eyes once, shivered a bit, and that was it, as though it was saying keep stroking and leave your problems to yourself.

The stablegirl gave the bird a forceful pat, making it slightly reel from the gesture. "You know, you're as much a part of this as I am. The least you can do is look concerned about our hides!"

Kharthoum turned its head away from Luca, still as though it gave no damn.

"Fine!" young Luca exclaimed, long dark hair exploding from the centrifugal as she turned away, eyes closed, and with a scowled expression, "It's not like you're the world's best bird. What was I thinking anyway?"

The novice shrugged and started walking away, mumbling incoherently about how such an arrogant bird can exist. She made three steps until she collided with a newly raised wall.

Or something just as solid.

[redkinoko]

A pair of firm hands held her triceps to prevent her from bouncing and falling on her buttocks. It wasn't a wall that had cross her path after all. Luca opened her eyes and saw a young Caucasian in capuchin robes a good half a foot taller than her.

"Careful there, Miss Brasi," uttered the man in a soft-spoken voice, "crashing into things isn't what racers should be doing."

"I..." And perhaps, for even just a few seconds, Luca was blushing as she looked up and felt out of words.

Well, those were a good few seconds anyway.

"How do you know me?� Luca bit back as she snapped free from the robed young man and stepped away. "We're not coming back to that bloody island, it that's what you want."

The young man smiled at the novice who had her moonshined dagger exposed beneath her mesquite cloak. He waved his open hands across each other as though to clear any misunderstanding.

"That's no way to treat a fan."

Luca suddenly remembered her seconds of fame at the race and slackened up a bit but didn't let go of the hilt of her dagger. Kharthoum stared at the stranger intently from a distance.

"What do you want, priest?"

"To get acquainted with the winner, of course. Your double-step skills are out of the Phracon Cup's league."

Luca snarled back at the young man who walked towards the railing of the ship and began breathing exercises. What the hell is a double-step anyway, she thought.

"I make it a point to not acquaint myself with strangers."

The man in the chocolate brown robes turned to Luca with a puzzled face, which turned into a surprised one shortly afterwards.

"Oh," he exclaimed astonishedly, but still with full confidence, "I forgot to introduce myself."

He extended his hand, which Luca examined very carefully. It was calloused and thick with countless, skin-deep diagonal cuts - wounds from a seasoned rider usually found in retired riders that she had a chance to meet back in the stables. Woundmarks from years of riding weren’t very uncommon but it was rarely found among the young.

[redkinoko]

"My name is Jhuns Lindroff the Pronteran Sanctuary; though I still prefer to be called Brother Jhuns."

The best way to avoid trouble is to blend with it, Luca thought. She thought about her unusually daring theft of Kharthoum and half of the constabulary who was out to get her when she shook his hand.

Now, she thought, escape.

As quick as he appeared, she wanted to disappear. There was something about that man that she wasn't particularly comfortable with.

But as she was walking away already, Jhuns said something that caught her ears and stopped her dead on her tracks.

"So," the brother teasingly interrupted, "where will the Phracon Cup darkbird entry be going now?"

Luca was silent.

Nowhere.

They were going nowhere. At least for now, anywhere but Comodo. She had an empty stomach and barely enough fare for the channel crossing - stablekeeping wasn’t exactly the best paying job in the islands. If ever there was a plan in her head when she left the stables, it had all chugged out of her during her race with the alchemist just a few hours ago.

"Anyway," the young man continued, completely ignoring Luca's silence, "There's a small event called the Golden Grit Circuit Race at Morroc. It's not much of a contest but there will be a reward for the winners."

Luca continued walking away pretending not to really get any of the information that could actually save her the day and replied, "What makes you think I would care about it?"

"Your stomach doesn't know how to lie. If you want to last another week, you have to join," the monkish youth replied, "and win."

"And you're telling me this because?"

"Consider this as a test," Jhuns shrugged.