Out of the Blue and Into The Black.

[Lynchenberg]

“The King is gone, but he’s not forgotten;
This is the story of a Johnny Rotten,”
--Neil Young

Chapter One: Out of the Blue and Into the Black

As he made his way toward the council hall, Sonic knew there would be trouble. Although he could dash like a typhoon, today his feet moved like a slow stream. He scowled all the way to the door and knocked. "Come in!" A voice echoed. Sonic sighed, and entered. "Hey Sal," Sonic whispered as he slunk into the room. "That's Princess Acorn," replied Sally. She wore a suit and tie, and sat behind a desk above Sonic. He winced at her attire. What had become of his friend? "A formal mode of addressing me would be deemed respectful," Sally finished coldly. Sonic observed how shortly her hair was cut. It inched further toward her scalp than ever.

"Aw, c'mon Sal...," Sonic began.

"I would appreciate it if you would speak only when spoken to Agent Hedgehog,” Sally interrupted. “Otherwise the council will hold you in contempt.”

Irritated, Sonic bit his lip. He scowled as Rotor handed Sally a paper “You recently terminated three of Snively’s factories,” she read. “That was commendable work,” She narrowed her eyes. “However, this report shows that two underage trainees assisted you in planting explosives. That’s a violation of kingdom policy. Not to mention risking the lives of young people.” Sally sat the paper down. She stared sternly. “Any explanation for that, Agent Hedgehog?” she asked.

"Uh, yeah. I'm following your lead," Sonic said sarcastically. "You didn't raise a finger back in th’ day when I’d take Tails everywhere to bust Buttnik’s chops. You put Amy on the team when she could barely lift that hammer, prolly just ‘cause it’d annoy me. If they're good to go, how come these two ain’t?"

Exasperated, Sally lifted a hand to her head and sighed. "Look Son...Agent Hedgehog, we're in the process of re-establishing the kingdom. Now that Robotnik is defeated, it is important we..."

“Aw, c'mon Sal, it's me, Sonic! Don't pull that salty jargon on me. You sound like Ant.”

"Sonic, a little decorum please?" Sally implored, lifting her head.

"Sonic, that's better," he proclaimed, crossing his hands proudly. "Has a nice ring, don't it? So, you wanna tell me why you're bugg’n then?"

"We can discuss that later. At present, I require an explanation.”

"Can't we talk it out now? What's holding up the ol' parade?"

"We're in council, Agent Hedgehog. Therefore, it is inappropriate to speak informally."

"Okay, I took those girls along ‘cause they had the right skills for the job. I wanted to see if they were ready, and they were."

"Perhaps, but it doesn't change the fact that they were not officially cleared for such a task," Sally retorted.

"Because your politico buddies say so? Hey, here's an idea: Stop trying to turn the Freedom Fighters- who defeated Robotnik by doing things our way- into stooges to some medieval regime. That’s what got your dad creamed in less’n a week."

"Outrageous!" sounded a gruff voice. Sonic turned his head to see Geoffrey Saint John pointing directly at him. "Princess Acorn, may I beseech the council to dismiss and discipline Agent Hedgehog for his patent disregard for the judicial process?"

“Overruled Agent Saint-John,” Sally replied. She lifted a hand towards Geoffrey in a halting motion, but did not turn to face him. Instead, her eyes remained locked on Sonic. “Please continue, Agent Hedgehog.”

"Well like, uh,” stammered Sonic. He did not expect Sally to show him support, and he fumbled for words. “Well, see, I… I was talking to Tails' dad earlier, right…" Sonic went on. He paused to stare at his left shoe as it ground into the floor. "He said that what I was doing is exactly what he woulda done. He said that we could only ever fight the last war we were in; each one brings new weapons, new tech. But strategy stands.”

“Even so, your risk of minor safety was unjustified. We are not an anarchic resistance movement. We’re a functioning kingdom. Agents Prowder and Rose functioned as field agents when there were no alternatives. That does not warrant these two new…”

“Yo, I disagree,” interrupted Sonic with a loud clap of his hands. “We won the first war ‘cause we were juicing with some young blood, y’know? As those two kids’ chief liaison, I got the final say.”

“With deference to your rank Agent Hedgehog, as princess, I must respectfully add that…”

“Yo’, how about I ‘respectfully' add something first, hey?” interrupted Sonic, with a loud clap of his hands. “I ain't gonna stick around here to be duped into losing with strategies that didn't wash the first time around.” Sonic pointed a finger towards the exit. “And if y’all can’t respect that, this hedgehog is bailing, bro.”

Sally studied Sonic. She stroked her chin for a few moments, while Rotor buried his brow in his hand. Geoffrey’s expression darkened, as his fingers drummed upon his desk. The rest of the council nervously twitched and exchanged worried glances. “Thank you Agent Hedgehog,” Sally finally said. “That will be all.”

“I ain't no agent,” stated Sonic, as he turned to leave. “I’m a Freedom Fighter.” Then he disappeared, not spending a glance on the council. “Obstinate little toad,” hissed Geoffrey after the door shut.

“There will be no use of racist terminology during council meetings,” replied Sally, as her eyebrows creased with contempt. “My apologies Princess,” Geoffrey sputtered. “But why is he in the field, let alone supervising minors?”

Sally considered her words carefully. “He's certainly not what you'd expect to find in the Freedom Fighters these days,” she offered. “Most soldiers would sooner give up their mothers than disregard authority.” With a hint of a smile she added, “I think that's how he won us the war.”

“You can't really mean that can you?” asked Geoffrey.

"Yes and no," Sally answered. She paused to sip her water. "Sonic is the exception that proves the rule. His roguish nature is what makes him an excellent soldier. Sonic's not cut out for training though, never will be. It's a shame; he's got a lot he could teach. But he's grown up as much as he's likely to."

"He's useful to have on-field though," offered Rotor.

"In any case, I hope you relieve him of his training duties soon,” spat Geoffrey. “Did hear that garbage he said about the king?"

"My father made a lot of mistakes." Sally sighed. "He was a good leader, but he was not a warrior, or a keen judge of character. He trusted Naugus. He trusted Robotnik. To say that those were mistakes is an understatement. When I met him in the void, he admitted to that. The crown is not flawless. If I was a perfect regent, there would be no need for this council."

"Perhaps," said Geoffrey, inhaling deeply.

“In any case, we have other matters to review," said Sally. She motioned for Rotor to pass her additional files. Sally’s hands folded over one another as he laid the documents upon the desk. She sat upright, her feet stiff. Her eyes wandered restlessly, before narrowing to slits as she began to read.

***

Sonic sat quietly upon a dune. His eyes glanced down the beach and up towards the gulf. The steam from his coffee cup drifted softly. It disappeared into gusts of autumn air. It was an uncharacteristically sedate moment for the young hedgehog. His lust for a constant rush vanished when he was hurt. This emotion was rare for him, but it was frequent enough that Sally knew where to find him. Sonic always went to the beach when he felt upset. Timidly, she approached. "You coming scouting tonight?" she asked. "I wasn't planning on it," Sonic replied. He did not look at her.

"Sonic, about the council-"

"We can have this talk when you tell 'em where to stick it." Sonic grunted. "Sal, you’re way past cool, but you go all business-like around them. I know they're your Dad's buddies, but they don't know what they're talking about! Everyone on the team agrees. We all miss you being out there with us."

“That’s not fair Sonic,” replied Sally. “We still spend time together.” She crossed her arms sternly. Her head tilted and her brow furrowed. Sonic turned to look at her. Free-range wisps of hair cascaded over her snout. Sally must have cut her hair herself, he mused. Then he spoke up. “Oh, you’re a wild one alright,” he said as he stood up, straight as a staff. He made a mock-salute at his friend, wearing a characteristically sarcastic grin. “That Sally Acorn and her antics; staying up until nine-thirty to say g’night to everyone, Then waking up at five-thirty in th’ a.m. to get back to work.”

"Sonic," Sally lamented, before Sonic’s laughter stifled her protests. Sonic began to march around chuckling. He saluted her in an over-exaggerated manner. Sally joined in laughing. For a brief moment, they were children again. When the two calmed, they exchanged a grin. It melted into a serious expression. They shared an awkward stare for a few beats, until Sonic finally broke the silence. “Seriously Sal, whenever I get in I see you sleeping. Then you're gone before I wake up."

"Typical,” sighed Sally. “You're not thinking responsibly Sonic. You never have."

“You wanna talk about responsibility?” asked Sonic. “Which one of us couldn't take the heat of field-duty and bugged out?”

“It’s not that simple...” began Sally.

“Why not Sal?” asked Sonic. “It looks pretty cut ‘n dry to me. When it comes to responsibility, I got the hang of it. I’m the one out there taking care of business. You stick around at home hob-knobbing with higher-ups. What does that tell you?”

“Things aren’t black and white,” replied Sally. “If you’d just give me a minute to explain I could…”

“No,” Sonic interrupted. “I’m done listening. Words don’t say jack. Actions do. Y’wanna impress me? Show me you’re the gal I made friends with.” Before Sally could respond, Sonic’s sneakers twirled into twin tornados. There was a flash of blue, and a gust of wind sent Sally to her knees. Sonic was gone, and Sally sighed. She shook her head, as she considered that she might be deserving of his scorn. When the final leaves settled, Sally arose to look around. Confirming his absence, she strolled aimlessly down the dune. She paused at the Great Forest, to frown at her reflection in a puddle. She did not recognize herself, and found that frustrating. Eventually, she trailed toward the village. The winds were cold, but she was grateful for the sensation. It distracted from the cold that lingered from Sonic's words. As she arrived in Knothole, she debated what to do next. Perhaps she should see a friend, or maybe visit the library.

Laughter distracted Sally. "Listen, if you two darn-fool boys keep stomping around my garden, I'm gonna have both your behinds, okay?" lectured a portly walrus. Sally instantly recognized him as Rotor. He was flabbergasted, but not irate. Before him was a bee wearing goggles, and a crocodile wearing headphones. They cackled like two teenage gargoyles. A purple chameleon observed them silently from afar. "Hey Vector," laughed the bee. "Call the cops! Rotor wants to have us in our behinds!"

"Chill Charmy," replied the crocodile. "I dunno if we should go that far. We're detectives ourselves, right? Maybe we can just like, give him a warning?” He chortled mindlessly. Sally observed bemused petulance on their faces, while Rotor sighed. Sally's mouth gaped open in surprise, and she lifted two dainty fingers to her lips in a feminine gesture. Realizing what she had done, she slapped them away. She quickly upheld a masculine stance, and dropped her eyes to her feet while Rotor continued speaking. "Stop messing around, and beat it," Rotor replied. "I don't want to be here all night; I've got work to do. Why don't you go find something to expand your minds?"

"Heh, heh. You mean like ecstasy?" sniggered Vector.

"No Vector," Rotor groaned. "I meant why not go read a book?”

"Uh, because reading sucks," replied Vector.

"I like books!" chirped Charmy.

"No you don't Charmy," said Vector. "You can't even read."

"Well, I like, you know, to lookit the pictures and stuff. Sometimes, if you squint, the costumes on the super-chicks are so tight it looks like they're naked, hehehehehe..."

"Hey, zip it guys," Sally said. Her pretty face was accentuated by the severity in her eyes. Charmy and Vector recoiled, and looked at her. "Do you mean comic books, Charmy?" she asked.

"Comics!" chirped Charmy. He began pounding a gloved fist into the air, as he hovered in mid-flight. "Co-MICS! Co-MICS! Co-MICS!" he chanted.

"Listen you two; I'm heading over to the library..."

"Uh, last time I checked there were like...three of us, or something," said Vector. He turned to look at Espio. The chameleon raised a hand in a friendly gesture before returning to his stoic stance. The serious expression never left his face.

"Okay, the three of you then. I was thinking of visiting the library. They have comics in the kid's section. If it'll make you leave poor Rotor alone, would you like to come?"

"Ha, ha, you said cum," laughed Vector. Sally shook her head in disgust.

"I don't wanna go to no library," Charmy protested. He buzzed left and right with agitation. "Libraries are for wussies! We're like, cool and stuff!"

"Don't be stupid Charmy," replied Vector. "It's not just for wussies, Sally goes."

"Oooh, oh yeah," replied Charmy.

"So obviously it's for boring nerds too."

"That's it, just get out of here," said Sally. "I'm princess, I order it."

"Uh, okay," said Vector. "It sucks here anyway." The trio departed. Charmy flew beside Vector’s head while Espio trailed behind them. "Heh, heh, hey Charmy...what word begins with f and ends with u c k?" Vector asked as they disappeared into the crowd. "Uh, firetruck?" offered Charmy. Vector swatted him out of the air in mid-flight. "Goddammit Charmy, you weren't supposed to guess the joke."

Sally turned around to face Rotor. "I'm really sorry about that Rotor," she offered. "S'okay," Rotor replied. "Honestly, I don't know why Espio hangs around those two."

"Probably to stop them licking plug sockets," Sally replied. She pinched the bridge of her nose with mock disgust. "Remember when they met Shadow for the first time?"

"I'd rather not." Rotor chuckled. "It’s nice to see you again. It's been a while since we saw each other outside of council."

“Yeah, I’ve been keeping busy.” Sally replied.

“Same here,” smiled Rotor. “What have you been working on?”

“Oh, you know… lots of bureaucratic gobbledygook. Plenty of paper work, private meetings, that sort of thing.”

“Ah, so it’s just the same old, same old then?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“It’s been more or less the same from my end.”

“Got anything new to report?”

“Since this morning?” laughed Rotor.

“I guess,” grinned Sally bashfully. Her cheeks blushed behind her fur.

“Well, you know from the council meeting that I’ve been trying to upgrade Nicole. Hopefully we’ll be able to do so in time to rescue Bunnie.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” replied Sally. “Things will work out. They always do.”

“Don’t tempt the gods Sally,” laughed Rotor. “Anyway, I just wanted to get rid of those kids. I better get back to work.”

“Can I come in and see?” asked Sally meekly. She craned her neck toward him.

“What’s this, Sally Acorn taking a break?” sniggered Rotor. “Sleep safe, Knothole!”

“I just need to distract myself,” Sally replied. Rotor showed her indoors. “I feel a little…anxious.”

“Is that so?” asked Rotor as he shut the door behind Sally. “What is it with you two today?”

“Pardon me?”

“Sonic just passed through here quickly.” Rotor replied. He put on the kettle and pulled out a chair. Sally took a seat. “You two weren’t having a row, were you?”

Sally was silent. “He’s always passing through places quickly,” she finally said. “Did you hear a rumor? It could be Amy or someone jerking you around. Or has Elias contacted you from the Floating Island? He never approved of Sonic.”

“I haven’t spoken to your brother since he left. And apart from you and those kids, Sonic’s the only one I’ve spoken to in the past half-hour. He didn’t just zip past either. He paused for a moment, just to cuss me out over how I was treating them. Perhaps that has something to do with the meeting?”

“I doubt it,” said Sally. “It could be any number of things. Perhaps he’s upset about Bunnie.”

“Well, he only uses that sort of language when things are rough between the two of you,” murmured Rotor. He slipped his hands into his pockets and studied the tiles upon his ceiling.

“Do you drink, Agent Walrus?” asked Sally. Her eyes glanced upwards, and her voice swelled with authority.

“What?” Rotor asked. “No, of course not.”

“Don’t start.” Sally replied. “Your tongue is loose enough as is.”

Rotor felt taken aback. “Uh, did you still want to check out my work?”

“Maybe.” replied Sally coldly. “I really shouldn’t be away too long. Agent Walrus.”

"Heh, do you want a list of our first names? You're having difficulty with them." Rotor said with good nature. Sally put two digits to her temple. She faced Rotor with sleepy eyes. Slowly her mouth curled into a sardonic grin. The phrase “Ha-ha,” echoed from her lips in raspy whisper.

"Other than that, there are some new weapons I've made,” continued Rotor, ignoring Sally’s sarcasm.

“Well, I’m really here on business,” said Sally. “Nicole’s upgrades would be the most relevant advancement. They’re what will rescue Bunnie.”

“It’s like trying to use a sprinkler to put out a fire,” Rotor chuckled to himself. The whistling of the kettle drowned out his words. Rotor prepared himself a cup of coffee, as Sally raised an eyebrow silently. “Can I get you anything?” he asked.

“Sure Rotor,” Sally replied. “I wouldn’t mind a glass of water.”

“Not the usual cup of tea?” Rotor asked, turning his head casually.

“I said a glass of water,” replied Sally. "Caffeine is a drug. It is unsuitable for consumption by a regent."

"Fair enough," Rotor nodded, heading to pick up a jug. He sighed and poured her a glass. Sally noted the frustration in Rotor’s eyes. A twinge of guilt nipped at her heart. "Rotor, be honest with me. I’m not overbearing, am I?"

"Well... your fondness for calling us 'agent' is putting people off. In fact, folks seem awful sore about it. Only one that didn't was Fiona. I reckon that’s just because she didn't know you well. Sonic's ranting a lot, and Amy's always bringing it up. I think she's trying to build a wedge between you."

"I see,” said Sally. “Anything else?"

"Bunnie was hurt by the sudden change. Especially since the council looks down on her, because of her lowborn status and…condition. Tails is making jokes that you've been replaced with a robot again." In spite of herself, Sally burst out laughing. “As a matter of fact, I still have my glowing red eyes. I use them to get traffic to stop at night.” Rotor gave Sally a good-natured pat on the back. “I’m glad I’ve caught you in one of your relaxed moments,” Rotor smiled. “You know how I am Rotor,” Sally said. “Tomorrow I might be a total witch, but right now I’ve got my act together.” Sally gulped down her water. Rotor leaned on the kitchen counter and sipped his coffee. In moments, Sally plopped her empty glass upon the table. “So, why not give me the run down on Nicole?”

“Sure,” replied Rotor. “You’ve heard the reports. Snively is planning something massive using nanite machinery. Our best guess is that he’s planning to turn our own technology against us. So what do we do, shut it all down?”

“What, and go without video games?” quipped Sally.

“Heh, I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t part of my motivation,” Rotor chortled. “But anyway, we were thinking. Why not upgrade Nicole into some nanites of our own? Then infect Snively’s tech? Turn his plan against him.”

"It's certainly a good idea. However, I don't want to expose her to that. She suffered a few nasty virus attacks from Robotnik's systems. That's just from a few minutes of contact."

"When I spoke to her, she seemed to like the idea."

"Why don't we go ask her then?" asked Sally. A hint of imperiousness was in her voice.

"Well, the two of us still have some kinks to work out,” said Rotor. “But sure, I guess we could take a few minutes.”

As Sally entered Rotor’s workshop, she heard rain pattering. She looked up, and saw the drizzling on the window. Autumn leaves stuck to it in clumps. The noise was soothing. The room smelled of oil and sweat. Despite the stench, Sally smiled. It stirred pleasant memories. She recalled her youth, watching Rotor work. Her eyes sifted through the shelves lining the walls. She noted the cluttered stacks of equipment, comics and video games. Rotor was the sort who spent his nights off reading old fantasy paperbacks. “Dork,” she whispered sentimentally, as Rotor fumbled in. The window light grew faint, so Rotor groped for a switch. Although Nicole illuminated the room with her glow, the hologram’s light was only adequate. Incompletely formed, she materialized from a projector across the room. “I nearly thought you expired out there Rotor,” Nicole said. She had the tact of a tree, and this was her idea of wit. Rotor said nothing.

“Sally,” greeted Nicole.

“Nicole,” replied Sally with a nod.

Nicole seemed weary to Sally. The princess knew that was foolish. Nicole was not a mere computer. Nevertheless, she was not human either. She had the soul of something unnamed. Yet that did not mean she was capable of fatigue. Strangely, that idea appealed to Sally. Even as a young girl, she envied Nicole’s disengagement. It was the combination of human intelligence and cold detachment. She remembered a summer morning when she was thirteen. She was listening to Nicole’s lesson for the day. Her intelligence stirred faint envy within her mind. She fantasized about what she could accomplish if she was a machine. No pesky emotions could distract her then. Yet there was another memory as well; one the princess would never admit to. Nicole's voice had spurred a stirring between the young Sally's legs. The first hints of eroticism wormed into her mind. Sally was thirteen then, and her body had begun to change, as had her perceptions. Nicole’s voice made her feel…good. She began to touch herself. Sally lifted Nicole as she continued speaking. She raised her skirt, her vagina moist. She lowered the hunk of metal deep down and… “You still with us Sally?” asked Nicole. Sally flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry Nicole,” she stammered. “My mind wandered.”

So were her eyes. Sally’s pupils danced over the hologram. Nicole’s lynx-form was deliciously exotic; her silky hair was as black as oil. It was tied into a large beehive bun. Sally wished it were real so she could reach out and touch it. Her green eyes locked onto Sally with calculating coldness. It made Sally feel hot. Nicole’s lips parted just enough for Sally to see her sparking white teeth. Sally desired a closer look. She craned her neck, swan like. Her tendons creaked. There was a sound like ice cracking. An alien need gripped Sally’s thighs. The corners of her mouth twitched, resisting a smile. I want to hold her in my arms, she thought. I want to stroke the hair of her temple. Despite her best efforts to ignore it, a fantasy appeared in Sally’s mind. Our lips touch like twin leaves, Sally thought. She grins, wry and cold. I feel the soft weight of her breast against mine.

“I must ask if you’re alright Sally,” said Nicole.

“Oh really, I’m fine.”.

“You don’t seem fine,” said Rotor.

"Maybe you should get some rest," Nicole said. "Your thoughts seem erratic."

Sally froze. She forgot again. Nicole could read minds. Most of the time, she satisfied herself monitoring brain patterns. Yet Nicole could look in more detail if she desired. "Sally, are you alright?" Nicole asked. She floated to Sally's side in an ethereal motion. "Your mind is racing. Has something caused you alarm?"

“It’s Bunnie,” Sally sputtered. “I’m worried about her.”

“You sure that’s all it is?” asked Rotor with doubt.

“We’ll see,” Nicole nodded. She reclined in the air, her eyes glowing faintly.

"What are you doing?" asked Sally.

"I am making sure that you are who you say. Tails finds the idea that you are an impostor amusing. I do not."

At first, Sally was fearful. However, in moments that vanished. Sally grinned as Nicole read her mind. It felt like gentle fingers massaged through her scalp and into her psyche. She shut her eyes. Her lashes tickled her cheeks. She giggled with relaxation. She began to play with her shirt collar like a necklace. Nicole’s lips parted with surprise she found Sally’s fantasies. Rotor seemed confused, suspicious too. Nicole skimmed his mind. What is she doing to Sally? He wondered. Poor dear, thought Nicole. He’s worried. She flicked a synapse in his brain. Relief and amnesia washed over him. A beautiful song sounded in both their minds. Sally sighed, and collapsed to the ground. It was like was falling into a cool spring. Rotor flushed with intense feelings of love for Sally. He caught her in his arms. Sally opened her eyes and smiled at him. “My hero,” she sighed. She kissed him on the cheek. They felt overwhelmed with love and bliss. The two began to cuddle. They nuzzled each other tenderly. Nicole smiled; she had intoxicated them in the rapture of adoration. “You’re so soft,” chuckled Sally. “You’re so round and huggable. I love you.” Rotor smiled, and hugged her as well. “I love you too,” he said. “Yes, so much to love,” Sally continued as she eyed his belly lustfully. Then she kissed him all over.

That’s better, Nicole thought. I know why she is acting like this. She fears experiencing emotion because it eventually leads to pain. Yet as a biological life form, she needs affection. I will never understand why she is so prudish. If she allowed love into her heart, I would not have to do this. Nicole let off a few crackles of electricity between Rotor and Sally’s brains. The two remained wrapped in each other’s arms, and slid to the floor like melting butter. They kissed each other on their noses, and sighed with contentment. The two remained wrapped in a warm hug. They purred like kittens and began grinding their groins together. Soon they reached orgasm, sighing with contentment. Neither party sullied themselves. Nicole was always fastidious with that. She left no sign she had “helped” her friends.

Fresh from orgasm, Sally rolled onto all fours. She perched on Rotor’s round belly. Supported by a single hand, she squeezed the fur on his left breast. It was as soft as fresh linen. Due to his weight, it almost felt like it belonged to a woman. Sally let out a high-pitched titter. She adored chubby men. It was her secret fetish. Her other hand fidgeted with her shirt collar, while Rotor stared at her with adoration. Meanwhile, Nicole slipped a fantasy into their empty minds. Sally’s collar morphed into a diamond necklace, and she ceased fiddling with it. She lifted her hand, now adorned in a white glove, and kissed her index finger. She pressed it to Rotor’s mouth, while goo overtook his body. It gripped his manhood tight. Rotor's penis looked so pert, so desirable. His testicles were so round, so shiny, and so smooth. Lust rushed over Sally. She blushed, and lifted a hand to her lips to stifle a giggle. She noticed the same goo was emanating from her glove, and covering her body. It felt amazing. It was indescribably calming, yet impossibly tight. It engulfed them, and the goo morphed into clothing. Rotor was now dressed like a toy groom she owned as a girl. Sally felt a tickle on her shoulders. Her hair grew long, and curled into ringlets. She turned her head and observed her reflection. She smiled into the mirror that Nicole had conjured. It sat upon a Victorian dresser. Sally looked like her old dolls. Reminiscence took hold, and she began to sing nursery rhymes she remembered from girlhood. After she had finished, a new song of her own composition escaped her lips.

“The memory of my old doll-house gets me wet.
I drip thinking of the faces of those little dolls.
They were my first friends.
They were my first fantasies.
My childhood friends; how I longed to taste them.
My childhood friends; how I longed to be them.
My childhood friends; where are they now?”

“Go on Sally,” whispered Rotor, as he fondled his loins.

“In my mind's eye, I saw myself.
There I was, slowly drifting under her panties.
She discharged dew from her vagina.
It drizzled upon my face like summer rain.
My tongue lapped at it like the tide.”

“When?” asked Rotor. He smiled, seductively sedate.

“At night, I ran my finger over my tiny breast.
I pretended it belonged to her.
It felt like warm velvet.
My thin moans pierced the fantasy;
A rush of gratification.
I opened my eyes.
Guilt.”

Nicole appeared behind Sally. She stuck her hand through Sally’s head and into her skull. Sally’s head jerked and her eyes widened. It was as if electrodes went off in her brain. She felt Nicole’s hand on her shoulder. “When this is over, you’ll never be guilty again,” Sally heard her say. “I’ve also heard you haven’t been getting along with Sonic. You will be kinder to him, and you will also take what he has to say seriously. But first, you must learn to be more loving in general. Let’s start with Rotor.” Nicole’s eyes glowed. Their gazes caught the light, and Rotor threw back his head. He slipped into the soft accents of sleep. Sally soon followed.

When they awoke, Rotor and Sally saw themselves in formal wedding attire. They stood in a Catholic church, where a priest read them their wedding vows. Love invaded their brains as they each smiled and said, “I do.” They kissed, while all their friends and their families clapped.

Once their lips parted, the scene changed once again. Rotor and Sally had arrived home after the wedding. They lay together half-naked upon a sumptuous bed. Before a roaring fire, they exchanged a sincere smile. Surrounded by wedding gifts, they drank carefully aged wine and discussed memories past. "I have a gift for you myself," Rotor cooed as he finished the last drop of wine. He sat his glass upon the bedside table. Then he peppered Sally's nose with tender kisses. He pulled her closer to his chest as he lay sprawled across the pillow, shirtless like a Renaissance sculpture. Slowly, he pulled Sally’s face toward his. He studied her soft, unyielding lips. His knees went weak as he kissed her, and beads of sweat ran slowly down his forehead. What a grand kiss it was. Just the faintest touch of her mouth made his mind melt. He held her tightly, his grasp as strong as the bond between them. His fingers danced through her hair like a ballet. It was of considerable length, and silky smooth. The firelight made it glisten like an Olympic swimmer fresh from out of the pool. In his hands, her head felt like a flower draped in silk. In turn Sally quivered as he stroked her scalp. His touch was as robust as a horse's leg, yet as delicate as a newborn lamb. She began kissing him again and again, each one more passionate than the last.

Entranced by her kisses, Rotor let out a long sigh. He had never felt the touch of a woman before, much less that of a princess. Yet it was an experience he played with in fantasy. Now his darling had made that fantasy a reality. As she lay on top of him, he couldn't help but feel a stirring within his loins. "Go on," he said softly, "Kiss me all over..." He rolled over on the bed, and leaned into her even closer. He brushed her bare back with his fingertips, tracing her scapulae and spine. Her form was soft yet sturdy, and warm to the touch. She felt like a beautiful sculpture draped in a soft blanket.

"Yes darling, touch me" Sally demanded. She felt like she was surrounded by a plethora of angels, each pressing their lips on a different part of her body. They were all around her, flapping their feathered wings in a constant embrace. The feathers tickled her, and she laughed uncontrollably. The tickling dispelled everything but Sally’s adoration for Rotor. It was as though she was smothered by love, lost in a forest of affection. The trees surrounded her; mighty and phallic. The more she tried to escape, the taller they became. Soon they blackened the sky. Sally felt completely dominated. She was a prisoner of love, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Meanwhile, Rotor’s nostrils absorbed and enjoyed Sally’s scent. The smell was mind-numbing, and he loved every minute of it. He had traveled beyond the first threshold when he admitted his love to Sally. The next threshold was when they proposed. In accepting the marriage, they were now vulnerable to the final threshold; the loss of innocence. Sally and Rotor felt every last inch of their energy rerouted at the atomic level. It morphed into the need to be as close to one another as possible. Something between Rotor’s thighs began to stiffen against Sally’s leg. Love overwrote everything else in her brain. Sally was ready for complete surrender to her darling angel. She worshiped Rotor with manic kisses. Lust invaded Rotor's brain. His testicles swelled. He felt the grind of his manhood against Sally’s nether regions. The final threshold was approaching swiftly. A trembling groan escaped her lips as her womanhood parted, wet and slick. Paralyzed with desire, Rotor stared into Sally's soul as their groins moved closer together and…

In reality, Nicole observed them with no emotion. They were on the floor, drooling like idiots. The sound of their laugher reminded her of drug addicts. They ground against each other, never penetrating. They reached orgasm repeatedly, never ejaculating. To a computer, the sight was almost pathetic. Eventually it was over, and Nicole set them free.

As they arose, Nicole gradually returned their minds. Sally stood there, a half-grin on her face. Her lashes fluttered like a wounded butterfly. "If you are worried about Bunnie, then gather a team,” said Nicole. “Go rescue her. I am surprised that you have waited this long. Was it necessary to send Sonic to destroy other facilities before finding her?”

“No, it wasn’t,” whispered Sally. Her normal voice was returning.

"Then it's settled. Go gather a team.”

"Actually... I was thinking that I would go myself," Sally said as she began playing with her short hair as if it was much longer.

"Wait,” Rotor yawned. “Are you planning on going alone?" He shook his head back to consciousness.

"Yes. I can slip in undetected,” Sally said. She smiled at Rotor seductively, and put an arm around his shoulder. Her hand massaged his chest like billowing smoke. “What; just like that?” asked Rotor, doing his best to ignore her touch. He wanted to push her away, but could not bring himself to do so. Something about this just felt…right.

“I’ve done it before,” Sally whispered breathily. She nuzzled closer, her voice cradling him. She magnetized him with just a wink, and he became wrapped within her warm gaze. “No, I mean, why suddenly go and rescue Bunnie?” asked Rotor, unable to look away. His heart burned for the princess. “I'm… out of touch,” purred Sally, lacing her fingers between his belt buckles. She eyed Rotor’s crotch. “It's time I got back into the…” she pictured his hanging phallus “…swing of things."

“Since when?”

“What do you mean Rotor?” inquired Sally. “We were just talking it over with Nicole.” She arched her eyebrows, beckoning him. “Is that what we were doing?” asked Rotor. His face inched toward her, infatuated. Then he scratched his head and shut his eyes.

“We were discussing how to redeem myself,” answered Sally, caressing him. Her fingers stroked above his crotch, as light as a feather “It’s time I consider what Sonic had to say.”

“I remember discussing how you speak to your friends,” replied Rotor. “Sonic’s never been a genius tactician. There are good reasons for not going in half-coc… uh.” Sally grinned. Her fingernails slid over the cusp of his waist, into his jeans. Rotor felt so good, yet something did not feel right. “I mean, unprepared. You told me so yourself," he faltered. “We’re not doing Bunnie any favors if we’re captured. We can’t assume he’s going to make Robotnik’s mistakes”

Sally retracted her hands from Rotor. She massaged her temples, and then wiped her eyes. “I guess this is abrupt,” she replied. “But I feel compelled to be pro-active.”

“Darn right, you weren’t there when Bunnie was captured.” said Rotor. “I was. This isn’t something to be trifled with.”

“I’m not trifling,” replied Sally. “I know enough.” She arose to leave.

“Wait, aren’t you even going to say goodbye?” asked Rotor.

Sally paused with a knowing grin. “Is there a need?” she asked playfully.

“It’s just courteous. I’ll worry; bad luck has a way of following you.”

“We’ll see,” said Sally. She grinned dreamily. “But if you…need me, here's a farewell.” With desire in her eyes, she approached Rotor. She stared at him. They gave each other chills. Timidly, she kissed Rotor on his cheek. Her velvet tongue slipped from between her lips. She tasted him, and he quivered. She giggled as his eyes blurred. Happy tears flowed down his chin. Timidly, she crept away. She did not wait for him to show her out. She left the room wordlessly. He heard the clacking of his front door as it opened and shut. Afterwards, Rotor faced Nicole. “Is it just me, or does something feel really wrong to you?” he asked.

“With Sally?” asked Nicole.

“It’s not just that. It’s…”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” replied Nicole. Her olive eyes gleamed. His thoughts vanished. If eyes are the window to the soul, Rotor’s soul became a brick wall. His crotch throbbed with pleasure. His worries were blocked, everything simplified. His breath came in short stitches. He stared with wonder into Nicole’s eyes. The hologram walked forward, right through him. Rotor felt her inside him, filling his body with tingling arousal. She massaged him from the inside out. Calmness filled him, save for his pulsating penis. Its need mounted as his mind slipped into nothingness. Nicole left his body. She gently led him to a chair, and lowered him into a seated position. Lounging within the fog, Rotor’s hands slipped into his pants. Nicole slid them away. She placed her hand through his groin. She swirled away his need into a blissful orgasm, and allowed him to awake. “What were you saying Nicole?” he smiled calmly.

"Sally’s determination has blinded her to danger," Nicole replied. "Her plan for getting in is solid. However, escaping undetected is impossible."

“Not if you have Bilbo Baggins’ ring,” chuckled Rotor.

“Insufficient data regarding that variety of power ring,” answered Nicole.

Rotor twitched his eyebrows. He half-grinned in disbelief, and then shook his head. “You’re impossible Nikki,” he laughed.

***

Fiona Fox observed Robotroplis through her binoculars. She perched on a rooftop, wet with rain. A patch of post-storm sunlight shone through the clouds upon her backpack. “Bored, bored, bored,” she groaned to herself. She was frowning, only half-awake. "Will you just shut up, Fi?" a voice grunted from over a ledge. Fiona turned her head and saw Scourge climbing onto the building. "Maybe I will when you tell me why we're here in the first place." She sighed. "That little goblin doesn't do anything! He's hardly worth spying on.”

“He puts up a resistance whenever Sonic shows up,” Scourge pointed out.

“Feh, it’s only a token show,” Fiona snorted.

“You’d think he’d remember to take Sonic seriously,” said Scourge. “It’s like the dork has Alzheimer’s.”

"You don't take him seriously," said Fiona.

"That's because I can kick his ass," replied Scourge.

"Then why aren't we calling the shots? Why are we working for every two-bit scrub with enough coin?"

“That’s why we’re here,” said Scourge. “To prove we don’t have to. Now let’s put the fear of God into him.”

“I dunno about God,” said Fiona. “But he’ll sure as hell fear me.”

“Make sure that’s all you do,” said Scourge. “We don’t want any blood on our hands. Not yet anyway.”

“That sounds like a lot of baloney to me,” said Fiona.

“What?” Scourge asked.

“Nothing,” replied Fiona. “Let’s just get a move on. So what’ve we got to expect in there?”

“I would think you’d have a pretty good idea of it by now,” said Scourge, walking past her to look over the ledge.

“I’m sorry,” stammered Fiona. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“You’re right,” said Scourge. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Now listen, Scourge,” said Fiona as she sternly approached him. “You have no right to—“

WHACK!

Fiona lay on the ground. She wiped a steak of blood from her chin.

“Why’d you make me do it Fiona?” asked Scourge.

“Why did you let yourself do it?” she muttered.

"I wouldn't have done anything if you stayed in your place. You should understand this by now."

With an impatient flick of her hand, Fiona tried to speak. Scourge turned toward her sternly and she fell silent. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"That's better." He grinned, pulling her to her feet. "You know I'm only doing this because I care, right? I'm helping you. This way, you'll learn how to be a good girlfriend."

She gave a nervous little laugh, and remained rooted in her spot. Her arms laced tightly across her chest. Scourge thought Fiona seemed older than her 21 years would suggest. Her expression was sallow, her hair unkempt. Her eyes held all the mistakes of her past. She smelled like old cabbage, but Scourge licked his lower lip anyway. He twitched his neck. It made a sound like a water bottle twisting. “You know what we’re here to do, right?” he asked, and grinned emptily.

“Yeah, scare Snively into letting us take over.”

“You know it, babe. Then I’ll roll in as King of Mobius! I can’t wait to see the look on Miles' smug face.”

Fiona felt a sting of guilt; she did not expect Scourge to mention Tails. “You don’t have to be hard on him,” she said.

“Still worried about your snot-nosed ex?” He asked.

“He wasn’t my ex Scourge. He was just a kid with a crush.”

“Don't lecture me about being harsh on kids. You belted him right in the face.”

“How can you say that when you…”

Scourge lifted his hand again, ready to slap Fiona. “When I’m what?” he asked. Fiona relented. Silently, she looked away. Her gaze drifted to the buildings. How had she ended up here? She sighed, and began silently musing to herself.

The place I once lived.
Overrated

The beauty of polluted skies.
Imitated

The people I once knew.
Unaided

The acceptance I sought there.
Uninitiated

“Yo, Earth to Fiona?” said Scourge impatiently. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I was thinking about Knothole.”

“How many times do I have to tell you Fiona? Forget about that weak junk,” Scourge groaned impatiently. “When I’m king and you’re my queen, you won’t want for a damn thing. Now c’mon, let’s go.”

Fiona looked at Scourge unconvinced, and silently she thought…

Does he know when he lies?
Is he right, I wonder?
Or should I strike out alone?

He smells fear on me,
like a shark in crimson water,
he smells the trembling in my breath.

However, loneliness is a far more fearsome foe.
There is hope that you will outwit the shark's
wide jaws. Punch his thick snout
and he swims away like a coward
in pain, weeping

but your mind is an inescapable sea.
The shark; self-doubt, there is no difference
here, when you are alone inside
the sea of your mind
you only hit yourself.

“Alright Scourge,” she finally said aloud. “Let’s go.” In the scarlet darkness, they danced across the thick and thin crevices between buildings. A surveillance ship passed overhead. Under its blue glow, they dived into the shadows. “Are you sure going so close to the top is a good idea Scourge?” asked Fiona. “He could have seen us, maybe he did.”

“Shut up,” Scourge barked. “I know what I’m doing. Just give it a minute.” Fiona sighed, and took a notebook out of her backpack. She needed to pass the time somehow, so she began to write.

“Stealthily, we leap through the polluted skies
Our shadows engulfed by buildings that loom
A place where no one would hear our icy cries
This abandoned city could provide our tomb

How I missed the embrace of the city
These metal effigies may be cold to most
Yet they whisper warm memories to me
Recalling childhood, I offer an invisible toast

The soothing beauty is worth the risk
I will relive the memories of my youth here
So be it if I find my demise, so bitter and brisk
My love for this place overwhelms my fear

Perhaps a living creature in this lonely metal husk,
is all it needs to retire its perils to another time?”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Fiona heard Scourge ask. She looked up from her paper wearily, and saw him perched above her. “Just passing the time, nothing more,” she muttered.

“Let me see that,” said Scourge, yanking the paper away. He skimmed it contemptuously. “What the hell is this garbage?” he asked. “Why would you write that? It doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

“What do you mean, I—?” sputtered Fiona.

“What exactly do you think you’re accomplishing?” asked Scourge.

“Ah… nothing important Scourge. I was just—“

“Then stop it, and keep focused.”

“Aw, c’mon Scourge, we’re just sitting here, no need to slap my wrists.”

“Oh, I’ll do more than that,” he replied. He grabbed the notebook from her, and tore it to pieces. Then he flung the torn paper in her face. Tears welled up in her eyes. “You know I hate sitting around doing nothing,” she whimpered. “Why do you ask me to come on these missions if you treat me like that?”
“Because I want you to come,” he replied, and placed a hand on her shoulder. She grinned a little. “Now c’mon babe,” he smiled. “That’s enough cowering. It’s time we did what we came here to do.” Scourge led Fiona by the hand to the ledge. He unloaded his backpack, which was full of metal parts. He connected them until he they formed a sniper rifle. “Okay Fiona,” he said. “We’re going to fire a warning shot at that window over there. Then we split. It’ll really show Snively we mean business!”

“What? Is that all? Won’t it just attract attention?”

“Damn straight, the right kind.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea, what if…”

“Look Fiona, I’m getting impatient. Do you remember how to work this thing?”

“Yeah,” she muttered.

“Great. Now is the butt set firmly set on your shoulder?”

“Of course it is,” Fiona replied. “We’ve done this a million times.”

“Okay, I just want to make sure you remember. I’m not going to be here while you do it.”

“Excuse me?” asked Fiona.

“I have to make a call over there.” Scourge pointed back to the shadows. “Get us some transport out of here.”

“Why didn’t you do that earlier?” Fiona asked, confused. “And why can’t you do that over here?”

“Fiona, this is stressful enough as is. Stop making it worse. Now keep your arm bent. Keep your crosshairs on mark, and take some deep breaths to prepare. I’m going now.”

Fiona sighed and turned back to her target. I don’t know what’s up, but I don’t like it, she thought to herself. Meanwhile, Scourge took out a communicator and dialed. “Okay, she’s in position Snively,” he grinned smugly.

“Excellent,” Snively’s voice crackled over the communicator. “I’ll move in my troops when she fires. I’ll have a perfect test subject to go with Mrs. Rabbot.”

“You know it bro,” replied Scourge. “And I’ll get that dyke off my hands; plus some serious coin in my pocket.”

Scourge heard Snively snort vaguely. “Yes, well, we’ll definitely sort that matter out once she’s incarcerated. Tah-tah for now.”

With a beep, Scourge hung up and grinned. “Let’s get this show on the road! OKAY, FIONA, FIRE IN THE HOLE!”

Surprised, Fiona looked up and stopped her breathing exercises. She abruptly pulled the trigger when… “Oh God!” she screamed. “SALLY!” Out of nowhere, the princess appeared directly in her sights. With a drunken expression, she scaled the building. Fiona jerked the rifle away, but the shot rang out. Instead of hitting Sally, it split the cord on her grappling hook. She fell a few feet, and bruised her shin. She lay unconscious on a pillar. “Oh s***, OH SHI—!” began Fiona, when an army of hovercrafts descended upon her.

“Well, well,” grinned Snively. While his minions captured Fiona, he observed the unconscious princess on his computer monitor. “Looks like I’m getting two for the price of one today.”

[Lynchenberg]

“The message in my music is really learn
to bloody love each other properly.
Because you only get one go at it.”
--Johnny “Rotten” Lydon

Chapter Two: A Circle of Blue

Tails awoke an hour before noon. “Slept in again,” he sighed to himself. As he trod to his outdoor lab, he noted the air was cold, even for autumn. The frozen rain strewn upon the foliage resembled broken mirrors. Tails paused to observe the phenomena. It made him smile, as it served to create a sense of calm. In these moments, it was easy to forget the war. He picked a flower and saw the misty skies reflected in its dew. He turned his head. Along the horizon, Castle Acorn sat silhouetted against the sun. Despite the beauty, Tails’ grin melted away. “I wonder if Sally will be back with Bunnie today," he pondered aloud. The breeze intensified, and Tails held his breath. He knew what was coming next. In moments, he was blown over in a flash of blue. "Did I just hear some stressing, big guy? That ain't cool!" said a familiar voice. Tails sat coughing up dust while seated in Sonic’s shadow. Sonic scuffed dirt under his shoe for a moment. Then he registered his friend’s glare, and helped Tails up. “It's not cool at all Sonic,” coughed Tails. “I'm worried about them.” Sonic sucked in air and averted his gaze toward the horizon. Then he forced his cold stare into a smile. With a forced motion, he gave Tails a thumbs-up. “Think of this as our special boys’ time,” cheered Sonic. “There’s not a chick in sight to shackle our buzz.” Yet deep in their hearts, they both felt something was wrong. “Shouldn't you be looking for Sally?” Tails asked. Sonic leaned back. His hands slunk behind his head and he scowled. “It’s no problem of mine kiddo. Sally can handle herself this time."

“You're not still arguing with her, are you Sonic?”

“It’s not like that big guy.”

“You sure? Letting her run off like that is kind of…”

“Kind of what?” Sonic angrily crossed his arms. He tapped his foot impatiently, silencing Tails. “It’s no fault of mine,” Sonic whispered frostily. “I wasn’t even there. Rotor and Nikki let her bail.”

“That’s what’s bothering me,” said Tails. “It doesn’t seem like them.”

Sonic tilted his head and examined Tails. “Maybe, it is kind of weird. Nicole tends to play follow the leader to Sal.”

“Rotor's usually more on the ball too,” replied Tails.

“He’s one heck of a wet blanket alright,” said Sonic. “If Sal gets caught, I’ll wish he joined her.”

“You don’t mean that, do you Sonic?”

"I’ll just say this. If Sal thinks I do more harm than good on missions, let her prove she can do better. Same goes for Rotor.”

“Well you just might get your wish,” Tails replied. “We’re going to meet at the diner in less’n an hour to talk about rescuing her.”

”Why the diner?” asked Sonic.

“I don’t know. Rotor seems uncomfortable back home.”

“Nikki?”

“Yeah, I’d imagine so. Don’t you ever like… black out around her?”

“No way, dude. I feel great when she’s around. You and Rotor are too hard on Nicole. You’re changing man.”

“That’s what happens when you get older Sonic,” replied Tails. “But if it really bothers you, I have some work to take care of before Rotor and I meet.”

“Sweet,” said Sonic. “Y’wanna give me the grand tour of your new lab?”

“Well, I wanted to work a bit first,” said Tails. He looked at his watch. “But it seems like I won’t have time. I kind of slept in.”

“I can get you there fast,” replied Sonic. He grabbed Tails’ hand. “C’mon, let’s juice!”

“Wait a minute,” said Tails as he pulled away. “Why do you want to hang out with ‘wet blankets’ like us?”

“The chili dogs at the diner will make up for the company,” Sonic grinned, with a sarcastic wink. “Now, are you ready to go or what?”

“I don’t need to travel in the backpack express,” said Tails, forcing a smile. “You know I can fly there just as quickly, right?"

“I never said you had to ride in my backpack l’il bro,” replied Sonic.

“There you go again!” Tails sighed. “I'm not a kid anymore Sonic. Calling me 'little bro' is condescending.”

“Aw, c'mon Tails,” Sonic laughed. “Don't be like that. You'll make me think I'm starting to lose my touch! Just kidding, I could never do that.”

“I’m beginning to see what Sally means,” Tails said softly.

“What? Can’t take a joke?” Sonic asked.

“It’s not that Sonic, it's just...I dunno...”

“C’mon, spill. I’m waiting.”

“Well, Sally says you never seem to realize we're getting older; that we aren't kids anymore. You still treat me like I'm a baby, no matter what I achieve or what I do.”

Sonic laughed at that. "Or do you mean WHO you TRY to do?”

“This has nothing to do with Fiona!”

“Oh come on Tails. We all know you've been trying extra hard to 'man up' ever since that gal gave you the cold shoulder. Even Ant's said so.”

“Is... is it really that obvious?”

“Let me put it to you this way: We're on Who Wants to Be Uglier-Than-'Buttnik. Here's the million dollar question: Is Tails savvy with tech? Mundo yep. But is Tails savvy with the babes? Mundo nope.”

“Look, the whole Fiona thing is beside the point Sonic. Why do you have to be like this?”

“Meh; it's a talent.” Sonic shrugged.

“Look, I worry about Fiona. Really, I do. But there's a lot more on my mind. I need to talk to Rotor.”

“Wanna give me the rundown before we meet up?”

Tails fumbled for his words. “Well, y’see, I…”

“I’m waiting,” groaned Sonic, tapping his foot.

“Rotor and I kind of wanted to meet alone.”

“Why’s that?” asked Sonic.

Tails gulped. How could he admit to Sonic that his immaturity was the reason his company was unwanted? “I haven’t seen Rotor for a long time,” stammered Tails. “I want to spend some time with him, just us.”

“What, are you queering off on me man?” Sonic chuckled sardonically.

Tails filched as his face became a portrait of disgust. Then he rolled his eyes. “That really isn’t appropriate Sonic,” he scolded softly.

“You’re not though, right?” asked Sonic. He raised an eyebrow quizzically.

“What’s it matter?” sighed Tails.

“It doesn’t!” insisted Sonic defensively. Yet in truth, he could not think of anything worse. “You do like Fiona though, right?” he added suspiciously.

“Didn’t we just establish that?” asked Tails.

“It’s cool bro,” Sonic said smoothly. “Just making sure.”

Tails sighed. “If it bothers you that much, you can come.”

“Sweet,” Sonic grinned, and the two took off.

Sonic ran in silence, while Tails flew above him. Neither said a word for a long time. Eventually, Tails broke the silence. “Have you ever noticed that we tend to pursue people who ignore us, and ignore the people who pursue us?” he asked.

“That kinda came outta left field,” said Sonic. “Do you mean us personally?”

“No, no” replied Tails. “I mean people in general.”

“I dunno,” reflected Sonic. “I never really thought about it; why?”

“Well, you promise not to get sore if I tell you?” asked Tails.

“Sure, I guess so.”

“Well, it’s just funny. When I was a kid, I followed you everywhere. You put up with it, but you seemed annoyed. Now I’m grown up, and you won’t leave me alone.”

“Salt, meet wound.”

“I’m sorry Sonic,” Tails sighed. “It just set me to thinking. When I was younger, Fiona chased me but I chased you. Now I want her and she won’t give me the time of day. Yet you’re jumping all over me.”

“I just don’t want to see what we had when we were kids disappear Tails,” replied Sonic.

“Me neither, but that’s not the point,” answered Tails. “It’s the same deal with Amy. She chases you, and you run from her. When you were fifteen, you chased Sally. When you lost interest in romance, Sally began showing interest in you. Now it’s reversed yet again. Maybe in another ten years you’ll be pursuing Amy while I’m trying to get you to remember me, and Fiona is suddenly into guys with two tails.”

Sonic began humming a few bars of a familiar song. In moments, he was singing.

“I love you and you love him, and he loves somebody else,
The three of us, so much in love,
And yet, we're all on the shelf,
'Round and 'round the wheel keeps turning,
While our hearts are always yearning,
For a dream that never will come true.
A Circle of Blue.”

Tails paused in mid-flight, as Sonic turned to look at him. He seemed surprised for a moment, before resuming his flight. “I never figured you for a poet Sonic,” he said.

“I’m not,” Sonic chuckled. “It was a song from the nineteen sixties. Well, the sixties in over-lander years anyway. Mom played it often when I was a kid”

“I think that song can apply to more than just romance,” Tails said. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t really know my mom.”

“It's to be expected big guy; you haven't known either of 'em for most of your life. I mean, you were a baby when the war started. At least I got to be raised by my parents for a little while.” Tails was silent, and Sonic sensed that he was hurt. “Sorry bro,” Sonic murmured.

“It's okay,” replied Tails. “I mean, at least Dad and I talk a lot. He's teaching me to fight.”

Sonic screeched to a halt. He grabbed his belly and cackled ferociously. “You, fight? Sweet little Miles Prower? Whatcha gonna do, blow on 'em and hope they fly away like your dandelions?”

Sonic laughed long and hard. Eventually, he noticed Tails as he hovered in the air with his arms crossed. Sonic looked guilty, but hid it with a forced grin and mock confidence. "Sorry bro...I'm just..."

“Sonic?” Tails asked bluntly.

"Yeah…?"

“Who here mastered the chaos emeralds and defeated Mammoth Mogul before he turned ten?”

"You," replied Sonic awkwardly.

“As a great man once remarked, ‘nuff said,” snapped Tails. He flew ahead. Sonic was caught off guard. He stood in stunned silence for a moment. “Hey, I totally remembered,” he called after Tails. “I was just, uh...just testing to see if YOU remembered!” Tails looked back, unconvinced, and then continued flying. “Uh, we're almost there, let's uh, let's go, uh,” Sonic forced a big grin onto his face. He waved his fist in the air awkwardly. “Juice an'...juice and jam and...and all that jazz! Heh.” Sonic ran ahead of Tails. The gust of wind sent Tails spiraling to the ground. "Some people never change,” he sighed. He shook his head with a wry grin before following.

***

In the diner, Rotor shoved his fourth sausage into his mouth and mopped up stray egg yolk with his toast. “So, this is where you’re holding meetings now Rotor?” asked Sonic, as he shoveled another chili dog down his throat. “I dig it.”

“Well, here’s as good a place as any,” answered Rotor.

“You think so?” asked Sonic. “There could be prying ears around.”

“Well, where would you hold a meeting?” asked Tails.

“I dunno,” replied Sonic.

“To be fair, Antoine once told me he held a meeting in a bar and was reprimanded by Sally,” said Rotor. “She found out a spy was in the next seat over.”

“In those days the spies were all metal,” Tails said. “It would be hard to miss one sitting next to you.”

“Heh,” Sonic chuckled. “What a tool. So Antoine couldn’t tell the difference between a robot and the sort of folks he hangs out with? Come to think of it, neither can I.”

“That isn’t a slight against Bunnie is it?” Tails asked.

“It’s a slight against the types he surrounds himself with,” replied Sonic.

“Well anyway,” continued Tails with a disgruntled look. “Word is that there are two safe places to talk. First is civilian areas, the other is in the privacy of your own home.”

“Good thing we’re here then,” said Rotor. “Because let me tell you, with Nicole around, I don’t feel safe talking at home.”

Sonic was about to reply, when a server approached them. “Can I get you boys anything else?” she asked.

“I’m good thanks,” replied Tails, pushing his tray toward her.

“I wouldn’t mind another stack of chili dogs,” Sonic grinned.

Rotor grabbed his rumbling stomach. “I really shouldn’t eat any more,” he sighed. “I’m trying to lose weight. Then again, it is the weekend. Would you mind bringing me that blue-plate bacon special you were offering?

“Certainly honey,” said the server.

“You’re dieting?” asked Sonic, surprised.

“I’ve been feeling self-conscious about my weight,” Rotor answered.

“That’s new,” Sonic chuckled.

Rotor ignored him and looked toward Tails. “Lupe mentioned it to me last time I saw her,” he sighed guiltily. “She said I’m getting even bigger.”

“You sure the bacon is a good idea then?” asked Tails.

“Hey, it’s the weekend!” Rotor cried defensively.

“What difference does that make?” asked Sonic.

“Well, we all need breaks,” Rotor replied.

“Sweet,” laughed Sonic. “I got a great meal plan for the weekend. You get some chocolate icing, some cake mix and bake it up. Then you call some kids next door, give it to them, and eat a salad instead.”

“You’re all heart Sonic,” Rotor sighed. “Look, let’s get back to Sally.”

“Maybe we ought to go over the whole situation again,” whispered Tails. “Just so we’ve got it straight in our heads.”

“Well, here’s how I look at it,” proposed Sonic. “We were fighting a war against Robotnik. The dude had an IQ of what, a bazillion or something?”

“I think it was three-hundred,” offered Rotor.

“Whatever,” Sonic interjected. “Point is we kicked his tail when we were undermanned. Yet we can’t take Snively? Bull.”

“Are you blaming Sally’s leadership?” asked Rotor.

“No, I’m blaming it on what a stooge she’s been to the council,” Sonic explained. “Back in the day, she would have ‘honorably discharged’ those jokers.”

“Things are different now that the kingdom is re-established,” Rotor replied. “What bothers me is how quickly she went back to the old Freedom Fighter mentality. She must’ve known it would get her captured.”

“Why didn’t you stop her then?” asked Sonic.

“I don’t know,” responded Rotor. “That’s been worrying me too.”

“In any case, how do we even know she got caught?” asked Tails.

“For once, I can agree with the little man,” said Sonic, failing to notice Tails’ scowl. “Snively’s just been lucky before. With me, it was a worker drone, and I was distracted. With Bunnie, it was Metal-Sonic. He's more than a match for anyone; except for me, of course.”

“If she's okay, then why isn’t she back?” Tails asked.

“Good question,” proposed Rotor. “Even if she found Bunnie, she's not the easiest person to move while unconscious.”

“You’re one to talk,” laughed Sonic. He grabbed an uneaten crumb that Rotor was reaching for, and flicked it across the room.

"Sonic, this is serious!" Tails said, slamming his fist into the table. “Something's gone wrong. If we don't do something about it, Sally will be covered head-to-toe in steel.”

“You act like I don’t know,” Sonic grunted. “I’ve been through it myself; trapped in my own body; forced to watch as it attacked my friends.”

“If you realize that and are willing to risk it, at least consider the council,” whispered Tails.

"Why do we suddenly care about them?" Sonic asked.

Rotor cleared his throat and Sonic turned to look at him. “Because if Sally comes back as a robot, Geoffrey will jump on that,” he explained. “It will be an excuse to say that our way doesn't work.”

"Thanks Rotor," Tails smiled at his mentor, and then made eye contact with Sonic. "You can sit around making jokes at everyone's expense or you can contribute.”

“And if I don’t want to…?” asked Sonic.

“If you don’t want to come, why are you even here in the first place?” asked Rotor.

“Yeah!” shouted Tails. “You’re the one who came after me, not the other way around. I will not put up with this. I already lost Fiona. I'm not losing Sally and Bunnie as well.”

“Look, I just wanted to hang out,” Sonic yawned as he stretched out his arms. “Maybe I’d tag along if you guys were going to do this the old way. But I don’t like this council talk. This is one hedgehog that doesn’t dig rules, especially stupid ones.”

“It may seem like nonsense Sonic,” Rotor began. “But a society has to have rules.”

“Yeah, and those rules don’t have to make sense, right?" Sonic said as he got up. “I'm outta here.”

“But you haven’t even paid for your meal, and you have another order!” moaned Rotor.

Sonic lifted his middle finger without even looking back at them. “Well, I’ve always been the type to dine and juice,” he said. Then he disappeared.

“Did he just flip us off?” Rotor asked.

“And he left us with the bill to boot,” sighed Tails.

“Typical Sonic,” groaned Rotor.

Tails slumped back into his seat. “Honestly, I was going to suggest that we did this one off the books. I only mentioned the council to motivate him.”

“Points for effort,” said Rotor. “I knew things were bad between them, but not that bad.”

“Things are rough all over,” said Tails. “Sally's turned into a puppet for the council, Nicole's terrifying everyone. Fiona's gone, and Sonic's... Sonic's a..."

"It's okay to say it if you want to," Rotor said.

“Sonic is a giant prick,” Tails finished. “Man. That feels better.”

"Yeah, I thought it might. Anyway, we have to do go in with some kind of strategy.”

“Agreed,” said Tails.

“Alright, any questions before we start planning?”

“Yeah, are we telling Antoine about this?”

“Antoine,” Rotor grinned as he leaned back in his seat and stared out the window to Castle Acorn. “As a matter of fact, I know he’s doing his part already.”

***

Antoine turned from his notes, and looked out the window. The sun hid behind the clouds. It made them glow as orange as daylilies. He felt a chill, and pulled his waistcoat tighter. It seemed like summer was only yesterday. Now it was September, and wrinkled leaves littered the earth. He opened his window and inhaled the autumn air. He heard a busker play for children. They danced along the marble street with the bravado of a ballet. Over the rooftops, birds of every species sore. Their song harmonized with the busker, and lifted Antoine’s heart. He quietly changed into his musketeer uniform, and went outside. Toward the market place, there were smiths forging tools. Onlookers observed their masked faces bathed in flickering cascades. At the docks, teenagers stared longingly at departing vessels. The town seemed alive, and Antoine felt content. That feeling did not last, as Antoine noticed his musketeers approaching. He remembered what he had been studying previously; notes he had written on how to approach the council.

“Bonjour mon capitaine,” said an eighteen year old beaver. He was clothed in an azure uniform. His jaw was handsomely chiseled, while his strong arms held his gasket steadfastly. “Salutations Lieutenant Maquet,” replied Antoine. “Êtes-vous prêt à monsieur Sir Saint John, au sujet de la disparition de Sally?” asked Maquet. “I think it would be preferred If you would be speaking in ze English,” prodded Antoine, with a noble tip of his hat. “Ze council eez not versed in our native tongue. Best we get used to speaking in their language before the meeting.”

“Of course mon capitaine, but once more I must query, are you prepared to meet with Monsieur Saint John?”

“Oui,” replied Antoine. “It is my hope that we shall convince him to allow a mission to rescue ze Princess."

“May God preserve her,” said Maquet with a salute. This prompted the rest of the Musketeers to salute as well, and repeat Maquet’s sentiment in their own language.

“I have but one notion to add,” said Antoine. “And that is that zis will also be a mission to ensure the safety of my wife.”

“Oui, oui!” affirmed the musketeers. They switched their muskets to their opposing arms and saluted their captain with their other hand. “Mars avant!” declared Antoine. He pointed ahead, and the musketeers marched behind him to the council door. Outside, a white owl stood wearing a guard’s uniform. He occupied his time by flipping idly through that morning’s newspaper. “Bonjour Sir Felix,” said Antoine. “The date is the 10th of September, is it not?”

“Quite certain it is sah,” said Felix in a soft cockney accent.

“I dare say it is about time your enfants are beginning their Christmas lists, oui?”

“Yissir,” chuckled Felix. “You know my children well. S’only four months tah Chris'mas, and they’re already on thar best behavior. I luv this chunk o' the calendah.”

“How lovely,” smiled Antoine. His face soured as he pointed timidly to the door. “Is ze council quite gathered as of yet?” Before Felix could answer, the door cracked open and Geoffrey staggered out. His eyes rolled toward Antoine as he exclaimed, “I’m sorry; we weren’t expecting you so early. We’re still getting organized.” Geoffrey almost stuttered with embarrassment, but Antoine kindly clapped him on the back. “Mousier Saint John, good to be meeting you,” smiled Antoine. “Je suis Capitaine…er, I am Captain Antoine D'Coolette, you have been hearing of me, oui?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. Of course,” stammered Geoffrey. He awkwardly shook Antoine’s hand. “Stories of your service to the crown are legendary. It’s truly an honor sir. What can I do for you?”

“I was to be hoping zat you would be as kind as to invite me into the Council Hall?” Antoine queried politely, as he returned Geoffrey’s handshake vigorously. “Perhaps we could be having a discussion, oui?”

“But we aren’t prepared for council to commence,” Geoffrey replied.

“Perhaps,” replied Antoine. “But I would prefer a…how you say… precedent discussion? Makes ze sense, oui?”

“Of course,” replied Geoffrey.

“After you,” smiled Antoine, opening the door for Geoffrey. Before following Geoffrey indoors, Antoine held up a hand, signaling the musketeers to remain outdoors. Inside, Geoffrey motioned to the other council members. They fumbled about with their papers, attempting to find their seats. “This is the council,” Geoffrey began. “I regret to inform you that Agent Walrus is unable to meet with us today so…”

“Ah, Rotor, but of course,” smiled Antoine. “Fear not mon ami. Agent Walrus is taking care of ze business for me.”

“Business?” Geoffrey gawked. “I wasn’t informed. What kind of business?”

“Ze private kind,” Antoine retorted. His smile never left his lips. However, his left eyebrow furrowed as a mischievous glint danced through his eyes. It vanished as suddenly as it appeared. A tiny groan escaped Geoffrey’s lips, and his mouth twisted into a forced smile. “Of course,” he said. Antoine turned to inspect the council as they took their seats. “You’re very well-dressed,” he smiled. “And this chamber’s décor… exquisite.” Antoine kissed his fingers, and blew into the air. “Thank you sir, we try,” said Geoffrey. “You are being ever so welcome,” replied Antoine. “Here, have a seat,” said Geoffrey. He led Antoine to a sumptuous table at the center of the room, where he pulled out a regal chair. “Merci beaucoup,” gushed Antoine. He gestured to the chair on the opposite end of the table. “Would it be agreeable to join me?”

“It would be an honor,” replied Geoffrey. “Your people are quite famous for their taste in wine,” he offered as he took a seat. “Perhaps a council member would be so good as to pour you a glass?”

“Oh,” gasped Antoine. He was genuinely moved. “Merci beaucoup, merci beaucoup I say. I thank you a million times monsieur, truly I do. But alas, it is improper for a musketeer to drink on duty.”

“Is there anything else I can provide to make a war hero more comfortable?”

“Ze princess told me zat the very finest spring water in Mobius is located nearby,” said Antoine. “She said it tastes as through the Source of All itself was cascading through one’s throat. Zat would do nicely.”

“S-spring water?” asked Geoffrey.

“Do you be knowing of that which I speak?” asked Antoine.

“Yes…” said Geoffrey, followed by a long pause. “With respect sir, it could take a while to fetch it.”

“Mm, indeed,” smiled Antoine as his fingers laced together under his snout. “You better send the rest of ze council off to gather it right away.”

“What, the entire…?”

“But of course,” said Antoine. “You’ll need them to keep an eye on each other; we wouldn’t want anyone getting lost. Would we, Monsieur Saint John?”

“No we…wouldn’t,” replied Geoffrey mechanically. “Very well then,” he finished. He motioned for the council to depart.

“Merci,” said Antoine, followed by a lightning-quick grin. Both Geoffrey and Antoine were silent as the council cleared out. The two men stared at each other for what seemed like ages. As the door finally clacked shut, a nearly impalpable smirk drifted across Antoine’s muzzle. “Monsieur, I thank you from the bottom of my soul for your indulgence.”

“I wish we could do better,” replied Geoffrey.

“Se il vous plait, give yourself credit monsieur. To both you and your council, I offer a standing ovation.”

“And I applaud your tact Captain D'Coolette. That was quite a… tasteful way of dismissing the entire council.”

“Merci beaucoup,” whispered Antoine as he lent onto the table. His eyes stared more intimately into those of Geoffrey. “I felt a bit of privacy would serve our discussion most efficiently.”

“I note your fellow musketeers have not joined us,” replied Geoffrey.

“Yes, the same applies to them,” said Antoine, as he took Geoffrey’s hand in his. He patted it in an almost motherly fashion. “I do hope you did not fear you had offended us?”

“Of course not, I know better than to expect that from a man of your rank,” replied Geoffrey.

“I’m glad you found it agreeable,” grinned Antoine. “Considering ze council is under your control while ze royals are unavailable, I would not wish to embarrass you.”

“You seem rather well informed about my affairs,” replied Geoffrey.

“Does that surprise you?”

“Not exactly, but… may I speak freely sir?”

“By all means monsieur,” smiled Antoine.

“It is strange to hear that someone of your standing is so well-acquainted with me.”

“Ah, but zat is my job, non?”

“I’ve been led to believe there’s a degree of indifference from the upper ranks to lower ranks.”

“Cela explique beaucoup,” murmured Antoine.

“Captain…?” asked Geoffrey.

“Forgive me,” replied Antoine. “I’ve nearly exhausted the extent of my English. What I meant was, we are often more aware of the other ranks than one would think. In fact, it often pays to give deference to them. For instance, I trust you are familiar with Agents Walrus and Prower’s request to rescue ze Princess?”

“Certainly,” answered Geoffrey.

“This is being good,” smiled Antoine. “And I in turn, am aware that you denied them clearance to undertake this mission, correct?”

“Yes…,” said Geoffrey remotely.

“Please, explain to me why this is.”

“They wish to return to guerrilla warfare, sir. It is most irregular for a civilized society to undertake such methods.”

“And why is zis?”

“Well, personally, I think a better term for it is petty warfare. It's very much a hit-and-run sort of affair. Instead of battling in a civilized fashion, troops will wear down the enemy under unfavorable conditions. If we allow Agents Walrus and Prower to attack in this fashion, civilians may eventually be called to engage in ambushes, sabotage, and other unwholesome activities. Think of the effect this would have when carried over into peacetime.”

“Bravo,” said Antoine, and he began to clap. “Truly monsieur, a professor of military antiquity could not have explained it better.”

“It’s very gratifying to hear you say so sir,” replied Geoffrey. “Still, I question the nature of your inquiry.”

“Allow me to broaden your understanding by asking you to reiterate another point,” replied Antoine. “Why do you think guerrilla warfare is unacceptable?”

“It’s unwholesome,” replied Geoffrey.

“And as such it leads to…?”

“Well, an unwholesome effect upon the society after the war.”

“How so?”

“Isn’t it obvious? It impacts the civilians who were called to fight,” Geoffrey stated.

“Ze civilians?”

“Yes, it creates—“

“It creates more people like Sonic?”

Geoffrey was silent. “I have no interest in singling out agents,” he finally replied.

“But you’re aware of Sonic’s reputation, oui?”

“How could one claim otherwise?”

“Between you and I monsieur, the hedgehog irritates me. He always has.”

Geoffrey was silent.

“You agree, non? Your secrets are safe with me, mon ami.”

“Frankly… I do. I’ve never liked him. One cannot usually admit to that, or he’ll have a fit.”

“I can’t imagine why Sonic would throw a tantrum over such sentiments,” replied Antoine. “He’s done everything conceivable to earn his roguish reputation.”

“The blue bastard loves it…” scowled Geoffrey. “He adores being the wild card, the one that can’t be tamed. Or at least, he loves it when it goes his way. As soon as anyone criticizes him for it, he slips into defense mode. The only one of us he respects is the Princess.”

“Yet you cannot deny he is effective, oui?”

“Perhaps, I just don’t understand how.”

“Ze feature that allows for Sonic’s methods to be effective is zis. He is not entirely without limits, though he would love for us to believe otherwise.”

“And what limits are these sir?”

“You just said so yourself, monsieur: ze Princess. Her opinion of him matters; therefore she is able to guide his otherwise directionless energy somewhere positive.”

“So you’re a psychologist now?” asked Geoffrey, his patient facade beginning to wear thin.

“In a way…yes,” smiled Antoine with an elegant wave of his hand. “Half the battle is analyzing one’s opponent; to uncover the most efficient method of defeat. If Sonic’s deference to ze Princess is what separates him from other mavericks, ze way I analyze my enemy is what separates me from other warriors. My men call me Le Soldat de la Pensée; the Thinking Solider.”

“You carry little trepidation in singing your own praises, sir.”

“If one has earned a title, why deny it?” questioned Antoine. “It serves to illuminate a larger point. The Thinking Solider aptly describes me. If one were to determine what moniker best describes Sonic, it would be the Blue Blur.”

“His admirers coined that label,” Geoffrey said in a cool voice.

“Indeed they did,” replied Antoine. “And I agree with them. But where we part ways is that I do not refer to his speed.” Geoffrey appeared confused. “Are you familiar with the Merriam-Webster dictionary?” continued Antoine. “I read it often to fine-tune my understanding of English. Webster’s leading definition of a blur is ‘a smear or stain that obscures.’ What do you make of that?”

“A smear…a stain,” Geoffrey grinned. “That does describe Sonic well.”

“Of course,” replied Antoine. “And if you were to notice a stain upon your coat, how would you react?”

“I’d wipe it out,” whispered Geoffrey coldly.

“Precisely,” replied Antoine. “Yet in order to wipe it out, first you would have to notice it.”

“I suppose I would,” said Geoffrey.

“And why exactly would this be?” asked Antoine.

“It’s slovenly, a sign of a sloppy demeanor. A sloppy military will not do.”

“This is being true,” replied Antoine. “Yet despite that, you still noticed it. Did you notice that my mind rather than my body was what made me a war hero before I explained?”

“I confess I did not.”

“So let me propose a question. What is the public more likely to rally behind? That which they notice, or that which they do not?”

“I suppose that which they notice, sir. However I—, “

“Forgive my interruption monsieur, but please bear with me. Like any narrator relating a parable, there is always repetition of widely known facts. While such truisms are tiresome, they are still necessary. Would you agree?”

“I… would,” faltered Geoffrey.

“Then I shall continue. These facts lead me to the conclusion that perhaps having a stain upon one’s military is not always a compromise. Provided of course, it stirs the vitality of the public. What are armed forces without the support of the people?”

“You’re trying to say that Sonic’s flamboyance provides us with civilian morale?”

“I’d take it further,” insisted Antoine. “Sonic’s techniques blanket our own. The public is enthralled by gaudy displays of heroism. This allows quieter methods to take effect unquestioned. The smear diverts attention, while we go to work.”

“It’s an interesting point sir. However, it makes little difference to our current predicament.”

“I disagree,” replied Antoine.

“Whatever for?” asked Geoffrey. “Sonic clearly has no interest in assisting us at this point.”

“This isn’t about Sonic,” replied Antoine. “He was simply an example. There are other smears we can exploit. Take Agents Walrus and Prower. Even if their mission fails, it will give the public the impression that we’re doing something about ze Princess’s capture. Surely that is making ze sense, oui?”

“It will garner support,” said Geoffrey.

“Naturally,” smiled Antoine. He lit a cigarette. “May I?” he asked. “Make yourself comfortable,” replied Geoffrey. Antoine produced a Gauloise cigarette from his coat pocket. He lit both his match and cigarette in one gesture. Geoffrey remained quiet as Antoine resumed speaking. “Now, kingdom law dictates that all missions must be council-approved. In most cases, this would fall to the Prince or Princess. Unfortunately, Elias is away on business and Sally is incapacitated. If such documents are not signed by royalty, it falls to the council head. If not, such missions will be met with punishment.” Antoine produced an envelope from his pocket, and slid it across the table. “You’ll sign, will you not?” Geoffrey’s face darkened as it retreated into the obscurity of shadow. Before opening the letter, he dipped his crow-quill pen in a flask of ink. He twirled the pen around in a circular motion as he read it over. Noir droplets pattered onto the document like morning dew. “Are you quite prepared?” asked Antoine. “Patience sir,” sighed Geoffrey. “Patience is a virtue, replied Antoine. “Not a luxury you’re entitled to,”

“Hmh,” grunted Geoffrey as he signed the paper. “With all due respect, what was the purpose of making me sit through that?” Geoffrey asked, as he slid the paper back to Antoine. “You’re ze individual with the authority in zis matter,” said Antoine. “I needed to convince you of my position.”

“Why the big show? You could have just asked me to sign it. “

“I think we both know why you needed more convincing.”

“In your mind maybe,” countered Geoffrey. “But I respect you and would have signed under ordinary protocol. Perhaps I wouldn’t trust the hedgehog no, but the point stands that you’re different.”

“Ze point does not stand. Consider your similar treatment of Agents Prower and Walrus.”

“You didn’t even give me the chance to speak to them. And I’ll tell you why. You told yourself that only I, Antoine D'Coolette, could convince the council.”

“It’s not what I told myself monsieur. It’s what I observed when reviewing the facts.”

”Because you’re the self-proclaimed, ‘Thinking Solider’ correct?”

“I did not bestow that title upon myself monsieur,” said Antoine patiently. “I earned it because someone in zis organization needed to plan, and no one else would.”

“So you admit you believe yourself to be above regular soldiers?”

“Is zat not what you’ve been telling me for half an hour now?” grunted Antoine, visibly agitated.

“Don’t be so defensive,” replied Geoffrey, failing to hide his satisfied smirk.

“Then kindly refrain from attacking me,” stated Antoine reticently.

“Now don’t—“

“Quite satisfied you got a rise out me?” Antoine Interrupted. “I’ve remained cordial, but I’ve sensed your animosity throughout this entire meeting.”

“I… I beg your pardon?” sputtered Geoffrey. He did not expect an outburst of this magnitude.

“Is it inconceivable that I see past your façade? Or perhaps you’re the one with the ego, oui?”

“Is that so Captain D'Coolette? You have my signature. If that’s how you feel, I can’t imagine why you remain here.”

“Non? Perhaps I wanted to see your true nature, monsieur. Discover if there was anything genuine behind your flattering veneer.”

“I don’t suppose you think there is?”

“I think you saw some merit in me. However, zat is nothing substantial. Before today, you viewed me as an idol. Yet as soon as you saw me as a person and not a symbol, you quickly lost respect for me.”

“Your mission has my blessing, surely that shows respect.”

“Are others not due the same respect?”

“Soldiers of our standing do not mix well with ‘smears,’” said Geoffrey. Antoine looked him dead in the eye. “You view us as superior simply because we have a wider vocabulary or higher status. Have you ever considered dividing a country into those boxes is what loses wars? But I suppose it matters not. Your true goal is to marry into royalty.” Geoffrey appeared shocked as Antoine rose from his seat and headed towards the door. “Why so surprised Geoff?” asked Antoine as he departed. “I do my research. And for all your elegant discourse, you’re just another one of Sally’s power-starved suitors.” The door made a noise like dried bones cracking as it shut, leaving Geoffrey alone in his stunned silence.

[Lynchenberg]

“If I’m so wonderful, then why am I so misunderstood?
Everybody has a reason for it except me.
It’s the little things in my pants that we’re all waiting for.
I never really knew what that thing down there was used for.”
--Jimmy “Urine” Euringer

Chapter Three: Nothing Hurts Anymore.

Over Robotropolis, the moon shone eerily through the ragged line of pollution. It fell over Snively’s headquarters like a spotlight. The fumes that curled around it were his only company. While he lived, even his Uncle Julian was never his friend. Inside the dreary structure, a prisoner avoided the tedium of her surroundings with that thought. Her name was Bunnie Rabbot, and she wondered if a lonelier man had ever existed. Save for robots, the building was deserted. Discounting Snively himself, Bunnie and the other two captives were the only living beings in the city. Bunnie observed them silently. First, she watched Sally’s slumbering form. Snively rarely worked during the night, allowing Sally to sleep. Bunnie was in need of rest herself. The two were strapped onto separate slabs next to one another. They felt cold and metallic, even to a woman whose arm and legs were steel. Meanwhile, Fiona was chained near the opposite end of the room. The vixen wept bitterly, as she was prone to do. Bunnie had spent the last few hours comforting her. Now she was exhausted. She had given up, at least for the time being. Her maternal instincts beckoned her elsewhere. She thought of Snively. Perhaps a good man lay within him? Perhaps he could be uncovered by a sympathetic ear? Earlier, Bunnie had offered understanding to him. He would have none of it. She sighed softly at the thought, and stared at the blank wall before her. If Snively had a window in his laboratory, she would have seen that the streets below were forsaken. Not a single hovercraft pierced the solitude. Perhaps the smell of fumes and the cold touch of machinery was the only companionship Snively would ever know.

The thought was too depressing. Bunnie had put herself through enough by talking to Fiona. She turned her thoughts from Snively to the sleeping squirrel nearby. A wisp of Sally’s auburn hair trailed down her snout. It floated up and down softly as she breathed. Such wisps should not exist, Bunnie mused. If she was free, she would insist on cutting Sally’s hair properly. She usually did, much to the Princess’s frustration. Sally refused to see a hairdresser, as she lacked the patience for it. She only allowed Bunnie to cut it as a favor to the rabbit. As a youth, Bunnie harbored dreams of becoming what she called a “Royal Hair Dresser.” In adulthood, she had cast aside such fancies. Yet she maintained that front to ensure Sally would look presentable. As soon as Bunnie disappeared, Sally had lazily cut her own hair. Bunnie sighed, and turned her attention elsewhere. Her eyes danced over the princess’s body. She winced at Sally’s bruised shin. Instead, she focused upon her friend’s peaceful expression. In her waking hours, Sally constantly scowled. It was as though she was imitating Bruce Willis or another long-dead action star. In sleep, that mask of severity vanished and Sally’s delicate features were obvious. Sally maintained a small frame and slender physique. Countless hours in the gym never changed her youthful build. Bunnie’s experienced eyes registered her muscle tone. However, casual onlookers could easily mistake Sally for a prepubescent girl. As hard as she tried to impersonate the male authority figures from her youth, her graceful blue eyes and soft voice made it impossible.

Bunnie was about to look away, when Sally squirmed under her restraints. This caught Bunnie's attention, and her eyes swept over Sally's body again. She was animated, yet moved involuntarily. Sally leaned forward and whispered something, then laughed softly. Bunnie traced the length of the princess's fluttering lashes. Her lids were shut tight while her eyeballs darted left and right. As Bunnie watched, Sally's head turned as though to catch a distant sound. It arrived in her direction. "Looks like Sally-girl’s made a roundabout turn toward dreamland," Bunnie whispered in her southern drawl. Her voice was dry, and cracked as she spoke. It had been a long time since she had water. That did not stop Bunnie from wondering what Sally dreamt of. “It’s plumb impossible tah guess whut a dreamer sees,” she concluded. “You’d hafta be psychic for a starter.” Perhaps upon awakening, Sally would tell her. For now, Bunnie withdrew her gaze. She closed her eyes to follow the princess's example.

***

In sleep, Sally saw herself whirling within a pink cloud. Blurred images of diamonds, makeup, dresses, and dolls spun everywhere. Soon they comingled into rainbow streaks. The rainbows caressed her body. She realized it was far more curvaceous than she remembered. She spun like a ballerina, her long blonde hair cascading. Sally knew her hair should be short and auburn, yet somehow this felt so right. It confused her, but that only made her giggle. The sound was high-pitched and effeminate, like a college student imitating a child. Nevertheless, she found it was so natural to giggle when she was confused. She felt silly, but it was relaxing and wonderful. She felt as giddy as an adolescent, yet as voluptuous as a woman.

The rainbow vortex began to gyrate, and this excited her. She reached into the pink mist hoping to find a man. Would Rotor be there for her to hold close? She didn’t merely desire intimacy; she needed it. As much as she needed to breathe, she needed a lover. Even a woman would do. Nicole would be delightful, thought Sally, perhaps in a three-way with Rotor? Sally’s plump new lips curled into a grin at the thought, and she reached out further. She clawed at the air, searching for someone to wrap her body around, then devour with kisses. Suddenly, a gloved hand touched her shoulder. She was roused from this bizarre state as the pink cloud dissipated. The rainbows slowed down and instead of forming an array of feminine products, she was back in Knothole. She was seated at an outdoor café she recognized. She looked over her body; it had returned to normal and her distinctly auburn hair was cropped short again. Sally turned to look up at the origin of the hand on her shoulder. “Hey Sal,” said a snarky, yet sympathetic voice. “You wanted to meet here to chew something over right? And I don’t mean the food, mundo yuck!” Upon registering Sonic’s presence, Déjà vu overtook Sally. The bizarre imagery faded to the back of her mind. "Uh, yeah, whatever," she murmured. Sonic took a seat opposite her, his signature grin never fading. "Cool,” he said as he gave the menu a cursory glance. "So, what's up?" he asked, as he began to idly swing a yo-yo up and down. “If you’d had been here an hour ago like we’d planned, you’d know already,” snorted Sally. This was all so familiar, she thought.

“Do you want me to bore you with lame excuses, or do you want to talk?”

Sally paused. What had she wanted to discuss again? The rosy haze began to return. She felt the urge to shrug and giggle welling up the back of her mind. Why was it so hard to think? She felt foolish, but that made her happy. It was strangely amusing, how could anyone be so airheaded? A titter escaped her lips. It felt so nice; she allowed a giggle to bubble out of her mouth. It was only then that her thoughts came flooding back. This had happened before, six months ago. The conversation and the setting were identical, right down to Sonic’s yo-yo. Everything except this; she hadn’t giggled then. Sonic also hadn’t stared at her strangely. “You okay Sal?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” replied Sally. “I just feel a little out of it today.”

“More than a little, that was freaking creepy dude. Are you practicing the kewpie doll laugh from Evil Dead?”

“Beg pardon?” asked Sally, resisting another confused giggle.

“Aw, never mind. Tails and I were just watching it.”

“Sounds edifying," Sally remarked with a sly grin. "Is that why you’re late?”

“I guess; it was worth it though!”

“Want to tell me why?”

“Not really. I doubt it’s something you’d be interested in.”

“Says who?” asked Sally. “Films from the Pre-Mobian age, particularly the late twentieth century, are quite popular amongst our people.” Constructing that sentence calmed her. She started to feel better

“Yeah, but you’re more into Bruce Willis. Tails and me? We’re more into Bruce Campbell.”

“I hope not,” replied Sally. “Not based on what I saw in Legion of Darkness.”

“That’s ARMY of Darkness Sal,” replied Sonic with mild irritation. “And that would be the only one you’d watch, the tamest of the lot.”

“Better to be stuck with that lot than you lot,” quipped Sally.

“I hope that isn’t another slight against my homies,” muttered Sonic.

"'Homies?'” Sally repeated in a sarcastic chuckle. “Really, Sonic?"

“Yeah, my home-boys!” He abruptly lost interest in his yo-yo and stared directly at Sally.

“You’ve been hanging around Vector and Charmy again, haven’t you?”

“What makes you think you can guess what I did today based on my slang?”

“Because Sonic,” Sally chuckled. “You always carry on like that after hanging around them.”

Those words made Sonic scowl. “Why don’t you stop with the f*** attitude and treat me with some respect?”

“Really, Sonic?” asked Sally, rolling her eyes. She was beginning to slip back into the tableau of her memories. “Do you think using that word makes you sound adult?”

“F-f*** you…” muttered Sonic, as he returned to playing with his yo-yo.

“You remind me of my brother,” Sally sighed.

“Elias? Why?”

Sally began playacting as an insincerely upbeat jock. “Whenever things go your way, you’re like ‘huh-huh, hey bro, everything’s so cool, huh-huh!’ But the second something doesn’t go your way, its f-this and f-that, and f-you.”

“What do you expect when all you ever want to talk about is junk like this?”

“Like what?” Sally asked. “I asked you here to address this so we can get back to talking like we used to.”

“And what did we ‘used to’ talk about?” asked Sonic. “Boring stuff, that’s what. You never take any interest in what I have to say.”

“There was a time when I took interest in hearing your thoughts on a variety of topics,” Sally retorted. “Remember when we were teenagers? We’d stay up all night, sprawled across the cornfields. I’d pick your brain about various philosophical or psychological theories I’d read about.”

“Different subjects; same junk,” sighed Sonic. “We can never figure out anything definite with that stuff, so why bother talking about it?”

“Why bother talking about anything?” Sally asked.

“Because some stuff is cool," offered Sonic. "I used to show you funny videos I’d find online. But you seemed bored by them.”

“They’re fun for a while Sonic. But how many times can you watch some guy get his dinner knocked out of his hands when ‘good old Rover’ jumps up on him with muddy paws?”

“Well, we talk about other things. Sometimes I need a shoulder to lean on and you’ve always been good at that.”

“Whenever I’ve had a bad day you tell me to go ‘shove it,’” Sally whimpered. It was more to herself than to Sonic. Her soft blue eyes drifted to the concrete.

“That’s different,” continued Sonic, oblivious to the change in her tone. “I can’t deal when folks get like that, just ain’t my scene. Plus, I get embarrassed when my new friends see you having a spaz attack.”

“You just admitted you do the same thing around me.”

“Yeah, but you can deal with that, y’know? When I’m with people I have more in common with, I’d rather they see me as the cool, fun-loving guy I am. When can’t do that, I have you!” He stopped to smile at Sally, as If he expected her to be touched. After a few beats, he resumed playing with his yo-yo. Sally watched him, unimpressed. “So basically what you’re saying is, when you’re having a bad day and don’t want embarrass yourself, you want to be friends. But I should keep my distance when you’re trying to impress someone you ‘relate to’ more?”

“I guess,” said Sonic, as he caught his yo-yo in his gloved hand.

"It seems we've heard this story before," grumbled Sally.

“Really?” Sonic replied as he swung his yo-yo dangerously close to her face. “Would you like to tell me where?”

Sally reached out and caught Sonic’s yo-yo.

“Hey, let go!” Sonic protested. “What didja do that for?”

“To make a point, Sonic Hedgehog,” Sally replied. “You see this?” She shook the yo-yo in her hand. “This isn’t me.”

“I don’t follow,” Sonic said quizzically.

“I know you don’t,” replied Sally as she released the yo-yo and rolled her eyes.

“Sometimes being a friend to you is like being friends with a stiff,” Sonic snorted.

“Well, you’re not always the most fun either Sonic.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Spending time with you makes me think about who you could be,” Sally sighed. “And that kills me when I look at who you choose to be.”

***

Scourge’s laughter echoed through the corridors as Snively led the hedgehog eastwards. “Whatever strikes you as so amusing?” the balding man asked. Scourge would have answered, but he was distracted when they passed a faculty room window. Scourge was not a man with many friends. Nonetheless, it was inconceivable to him how disused the dust-laden space was. He quickly turned his attention toward his white-coated guide. Snively was a small, slender man. He wore his haggard features bitterly. Scourge thought that even a man twice his age should not possess such withered skin. Snively’s fleshy scalp shone underneath the flickering bulbs. His pale blue eyes darted up towards them. “I really should get those fixed,” he whispered. “Changing the subject already?” asked Scourge. “Perhaps,” replied Snively. “I’m not used to company. However, I wish this place was better kept. But if you’d be so kind as to indulge me, whatever spurred your merriment? I shan’t think there is much to laugh at here.”

"Eh, it’s nothing really,” snorted Scourge. “I just keep picturing my ex’s face when she realized she'd been played.”

“You’re referring to the vixen I presume?” asked Snively, as he resumed his stride.

“Do you stash any of my other ex-girlfriends around here, cue-ball head?” replied Scourge. He strode closely behind Snively, who only responded with a non-committal grunt. Soon, Scourge noticed a large metal door before them. He observed the scrap metal and rubbish surrounding it. A damaged Swat-Bot draped them like a cloth. Scourge looked at the trash, then back at Snively, then back at the trash again. “Hey, I got a question,” Scourge finally said. “How come Doctor Lard-Ass never captured these idiots? I heard he was supposed to be the biggest egghead on Mobius."

“That’s precisely it,” replied Snively as he fumbled in his lab coat for his keys. “My late uncle was a classic example of what you call an ‘egghead:’ an erudite mind that nonetheless lacks common sense.”

“Oh, I get it,” said Scourge. “He’d pull crap like waiting until Sonic arrived to rescue his bitches before roboticizing them?”

“Undeniably,” replied Snively as he found a rusted metal key. “He became fixated on not only defeating the hedgehog, but humiliating him. It affected his judgment. In the end, that cost him his life.”

“If you realize that, why didn’t you turn ‘em to steel the minute you got them?”

“I was still preparing a little something,” replied Snively mysteriously. Then he faced the door, and placed his key within the lock. He turned it without saying anything else.

“I’m surprised you still use that instead of something more high-tech like Butt’nik did,” scoffed Scourge.

“You’d be surprised how unreliable such equipment turned out to be,” Snively remarked as he held the door open for Scourge. “Trust me, this is far safer.” As they entered the chamber, a soft southern voice spoke up. “I knowed you’d be back,” Bunnie said weakly. “Fiona thought you’d be done wid us fo’ tonight, but I says to her th’ devil never sleeps.”

“I’m charmed to be graced with your presence as well, Mrs. Rabbot,” replied Snively in a calm whisper. "How are you feeling?"

"Well, apart from being captured, I'm so thirsty I could swallow an ocean."

"My apologies," said Snively as he shut the door behind Scourge. "I'll find you something to drink in due time."

“An’ whose this ol’ scrout?” asked Bunnie. She eyed Scourge contemptuously.

“That’s no scrout Bunnie,” said Fiona quietly from the other end of the room. “That’s the one who never sleeps.”

“You know it babe,” Scourge grinned. “And now you know that if you kiss the devil, you’re liable to get burned.”

“I coulda told yah so,” snorted Bunnie rebelliously. “An' you... Scourge was it? I reckoned you was Fiona’s ex. She’s been all a’tremble on account of you.”

“You should be too, Daisy Mae,” hissed Scourge. “I could beat your ass six ways to Sunday before you even blink.”

“Y’raise considerable talk fo’ someone threatening a gal,” chuckled Bunnie. “Unless your fixing to release me fo’ a l’il ol’ row, I’d stick mah tongue where it don’t budge none. It’ll embarrass you less."

"Why's that?" asked Scourge.

"Working me up wid threats while I'm tied down makes it seem you ain't willing to go whole-hog ‘n fight me.”

“You’re just a girl,” snorted Scourge. “I couldn’t really hit you…”

“Couldn’t you?” interjected Fiona with a sneer. She turned her head to reveal her bruises in the doorway light.

“That’s right Scourge,” mocked Bunnie. “Kin you only summon the gumption to sass a lady when she ain’t able to sock you one ‘cuz she’s bound by either restraints or love?”

“Set her free!” demanded Scourge. “It’s time I learned this piece of white-tail trash some manners.”

“Ah feel bound tah teach you th’ same city-boy,” Bunnie mocked.

“Ignore her Scourge,” replied Snively emotionlessly and he prepared Bunnie’s water. “She’s just trying to goad us into setting her free.” Snively then used a plastic dropper to give Bunnie a drink.

“Looks like you’ve got us strung up in a close place,” Bunnie sighed after she finished sipping. “If I brung such words to yer Uncle, he woulda fallen for ‘em easy as school in summertime.” Snively smiled, but said nothing. He put the dropper away, and then prepared a glowing green solution. Once he finished, he filled the syringe. “Y’know Colin,” Bunnie began. “I’ve been a’studying that thang for more’n a few minutes now, an’ it don’t look like anything I ever seen before.”

“Thank you for using my proper name, Mrs. Rabbot,” Snively grinned. “You’re always cordial in even the direst circumstances.”

“What kin I says,” Bunnie smiled. “Manners are stuck tah me like glue. A gal never fully loses that country upbringing. Now, why don’t you be polite yo’self and explain what that goo is to us l’il ladies?”

“Ah, the James Bond villain speech,” grinned Snively. “That was a common faux pas of Uncle Julian. Hoping it’ll buy you some time while the Hedgehog bursts in here with his Freedom Fighter entourage?”

“Aw c’mon Colin, we’re been playing this here game fo’ years now,” sighed Bunnie. “At least throw me a bone.”

“I think not, my dear.”

“Would it kill yah to let yer tongue loose some?”

“Perhaps just a bone then,” Snively grinned softly. “Tell me Mrs. Rabbot. Would you rather be a full machine, as my Uncle intended? Or would you rather be even more primal than the animal you are now?"

"Am’nal you says,” Bunnie chuckled as she rolled her eyes. “My heart mos' broke at such mean words.”

"I'm serious," insisted Snively. "If I seated you betwixt the two extremes, which would you choose?” He held the glowing green syringe out toward her.

“Are you saying that thang’s gonna regress us tah critters or sumpin’?”

Snively simply grinned.

“I warn’t expecting that,” said Bunnie. “Are you fo’ real?”

“My dear Mrs. Rabbot, have I ever lied to you?”

“’Spose not,” said Bunnie. “But that there is one rul nutty plan. Even fo’ a gag, it’s out there.”

“I assure you ma’am, this is no jest,” Snively crooned. “You mistake my motives for those of my iron-fisted Uncle. I do not wish to enslave you; to bind you in steel and set you to servitude. I simply wish to return the world to the course Darwin observed, before your genetics were tampered with. You will return to a purer state. You will live in happiness and bliss, never knowing the taste of the fruit borne from the tree of knowledge.”

“I’d give you a real piece of mah mind ‘bout that, ‘cept it wudn’t do no good.” Bunnie scowled. "Besides, mah is voice is getting wore out a'gin from this here talking."

“You’re learning,” smiled Snively.

“Except once that junk is in your system, you won’t be doing much more of that,” Scourge grinned.

“Better do it tight and fast then,” Bunnie sneered. “Suga’hog will search everywheres ‘till he fetches us.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Snively grinned, and approached her with the glowing green syringe.

“Wait!” interrupted Scourge. “Why not give the little snots a demonstration first? Sally’s been whacked out of her mind ever since she got here. And when she’s not freaking out, she’s sleeping. Why not show the gals what they’re in for first?”

"No. Whatever has caused her stupor is an unknown variable. There is no predicting what the effect will be. Bunnie may not be as theatrical, but she is the pragmatic option."

"If it goes wrong, what's the big deal? Say it makes her straight-up brain-dead. Only difference is she winds up in the incinerator instead of running around the woods, eating nuts off the floor, and s*** behind trees.”

“You misunderstand my motives,” Snively sighed. “This is to return Mobius to its natural state. I’m not going to torment these creatures simply to…”

"Please!" called Fiona suddenly. "Please don't do that to Sally, take me instead!" Tears welled up in her eyes.

"What's the matter, Fi?" Scourge asked. “Is there something you haven't been telling me? You know I don't like you keeping secrets."

"She keeps 'em first rate now," Bunnie snapped. "And far away from you."

"She's still my girl," said Scourge as his head darted toward Bunnie. "It doesn't do to keep secrets in a relationship."

"That’s all well enough as far as being in a relationship goes," said Bunnie. "But you forfeited that right th' second you hung her out to dry."

"Nah, see, it don't work like that. Ain't my fault she screwed up, this is her doing. Maybe if she plays nice, we might be merciful and let her go first.”

“You’re such a joke Scourge,” sobbed Fiona. “Don’t you realize that once he’s done with us, he’ll just do the same to you?”

“Don’t talk to me like that!” screamed Scourge. “You’re my woman, remember your place.”

“I’m not your woman anymore Scourge,” Fiona sighed.

“You’re whatever I tell you to be.”

“Oh, shush it Scourge,” groaned Fiona. “Snively should stick you with that instead of Sally. You’d sound a lot smarter if you couldn’t talk.”

“Oh yeah?” bellowed Scourge. “We’ll just see about that!” In a single motion, Scourge raced toward Snively. “Gimmie that,” he muttered as he wrestled the syringe away from him. “Stop that!” Snively began to protest. Then his mouth was met by Scourge’s fist. “This is my show now Snively,” Scourge muttered as he unclenched his fist. Then he turned toward Fiona and declared, “This’ll show you who runs the show!” Then he drove the syringe into Sally’s neck, and discharged the liquid into her blood stream.

***

“Wait Sonic!” Sally cried, as she jogged frantically after him. It did no good, he had already disappeared. In this dream as in life, their bickering escalated into open fighting. Sonic had abandoned her in frustration. Just as she had six months ago, Sally broke down weeping on the pavement. What was different however, were the strange words she heard: “Wanna come out and play?”

Sally looked up teary-eyed. She was immediately overtaken by new sensations. The sweet smell of perfume intoxicated Sally’s snout. She turned her head and saw someone staring at her from across the street. She was absurdly attractive, yet also strangely familiar. Sally squinted to make her out, as the figure giggled and twirled her hair. Her form was vague. It was as if Sally observed her from the corner of her eye. Yet she started directly at her. Perhaps it was the distance? The figure pulled strands of her hair over her face, as if to mask it. Then she retreated toward an old movie theatre. “Wait!” Sally called, as she wiped her damp eyes and chased after the figure. “Who are you?”

She was gone by the time Sally arrived at the theatre. As she caught her breath, she noticed a feminine shadow appearing from the alley behind the theatre. Instinctively, Sally bound to the back alley. She hoped to the find the figure. Instead, she saw what appeared to be a child clutching an unclothed Barbie doll. This new figure wore nothing but a frilly, pink nightdress. She made a cooing noise that was strangely hypnotic. As if in a trace, Sally watched her for a few moments. This gave her time to examine the odd creature closely. While the sound she made was childlike, the curvaceous figure under the thin fabric bespoke of womanhood. A mane of pristine blonde hair masked her face as she combed her doll’s hair with a small pink brush. “This is no child,” Sally thought to herself. Curiously, Sally was drawn to her. The misty sensation of the pink cloud fluttered vaguely within her skull.

“Perhaps you want to f*** her,” whispered a voice in the back of Sally’s mind. It sounded like the figure in the alley. “No…perhaps you want to BE her,” it said again. That made Sally feel good, and she allowed a giggle to escape her throat. Upon hearing it, the figure lifted her head and Sally gasped. It was almost like staring into a funhouse mirror. This woman had her face, but it was distorted somehow. The figure’s nose was broad and wide, and her lips were pouty and full. Yet it was unmistakably the face of Sally Acorn. The words “She’s beautiful,” involuntarily escaped Sally’s lips. What she really meant to say was, “I’m beautiful.”

“Golly, like, thank you ever so much!” cooed the figure in a syrupy falsetto. “You’re pretty too!”

“I… I am…?” stammered Sally, backing away slowly.

“Of course you are,” giggled the blonde as she discarded her Barbie doll and arose to face Sally. “Why, you’re pretty enough to be a dolly!” The blonde’s eyes widened at that. “Oh wow, wouldn’t that just be totally super?” She grinned as her fingers laced together under her chin. Her long lashes fluttered as her eyes shimmered with joy. “Are you my new dolly?” The blonde continued. “Have you come to play with me? Have you come for me to dress you up to and teach you to be just like me?” The blonde began running her fingers across Sally’s face and then over her scalp. She did her best to play with Sally’s short hair.

“N-no,” Sally faltered. “You’re mistaken, that’s not me. That’s your doll on the ground.” She turned to point at it, and then screamed with terror. The doll now bore Sally’s own facial features. It smiled its perfect plastic grin as it slowly arose. It moved mechanically, as if manipulated by invisible fingers. It grew larger as it entered into a standing position. Its plastic body turned to flesh, and then grew chocolate-brown fur. It was nearly the spitting image of Sally. As the doll stood there in all her unclothed glory, Sally pulled her own coat tighter around her chest. It was ominous how closely the doll resembled her. The most noticeable differences were her empty smile, and the look of calm contentment that hid behind her glassy eyes. Sally recoiled in fear. She prevented herself from falling over by extending a hand onto the brick wall. “I…I have to leave,” she stammered, verging on panic. “But why go left when you can go right?” asked the blonde. She glided in front of Sally and placed a gentle hand over hers. Sally turned to flee, but a new figure blocked her exit. It was another duplicate of Sally, except this one was heavily made-up. She wore a short red skirt, and her auburn hair was styled like a nineteen forties movie star. A long, phallic cigarette hung from her pouty red lips. “Why feel sad when you can be bad?” the femme fatale whispered breathily. She lifted up her red skirt to show off her stocking. In spite of herself, Sally paused to stare. She felt uncomfortably aroused by the silky fabric. It looked so soft against her leg. How long had it been since Sally had known that sensation? These days, she often wore briefs instead of feminine undergarments. In general, they were more comfortable. However, the touch of silk had its temptations…

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the blonde ask, “Why be smart when you can be happy?” Sally turned to see the blonde dressing her former “doll” up like a child. “And why be you when you can be me?” asked Sally’s glassy –eyed double, while the blonde woman tied Sally’s hair into pig-tails.

“I don’t want to be any of you!” Sally cried. “I have responsibilities. I run a kingdom; I’m Princess Sally Alic...”

“We don’t want Princess Sally,” interrupted the blonde woman. “We want Pwintheth Thally…”

“Look, I don’t know who you’re talking about, but she’s not me,” Sally replied. She looked around frantically for an opening she could escape through.

“Yes you do,” said the doll as her glass eyes gleamed. “She’s inside of you.”

“Let her come out and pl-a-a-a-a-ay…” mocked the femme fatale as she approached Sally from behind. Her voice was knowingly nauseating. “Don’t you want to be a pretty dolly like me?” added the doll, as she and the blonde closed in on Sally.

"N-no!" She stepped back, eyes flicking through the alley. There was nowhere to run; she’d have a fight on her hands if she tried. A faint smile crossed her lips. None of these warped reflections were dressed for combat. "I-I'll fight you,” Sally stuttered. She meant to be threatening, but sounded ridiculous. The doubles began to giggle incessantly. She stared at them, turning to face her duplicates one by one. Anger bubbled in her core, and she tried to draw on it... but nothing came. She stood, watching them, puzzled by why she was not fighting. The answer came when additional laughter reached her ears. The reflections twitched at the sound, then grinned even wider. She was laughing along with them. The realization terrorized her. “NO!” Sally screamed amidst her own laughter, yet she still couldn’t stop herself. Her doubles joined hands and twirled around her. “One of us!” they chanted, “one of us!”

“No, no, no, no, no, NO!” bellowed Sally. Her will was strong, and the horror show spinning around her reached into her deepest reserves of anger. Fists forward, she pummeled into the screeching harpies. There was the sound of glass breaking, and shards cascaded past Sally’s face like summer rain. She fell to the ground, bleeding. She observed her body, covered in cuts, and surrounded by broken glass. She turned around confused, and when she did her eyes widened with repulsion. There were no duplicates in the alley before her. Only three smashed mirrors. “No..,” Sally whimpered.

In the alley, Sally descended into terrorized babbling. “No-no-no-no,” she repeated, forfeiting sanity with each syllable. Meanwhile, the door to the movie theatre creaked open unprovoked. Sally’s mantra was cut short, and she turned around fearfully. She heard music coming from indoors. “We’re so pretty, oh so pretty,” bellowed a male vocalist as the same three guitar chords trashed on endlessly. In honesty, one could not claim he sung the words. He screeched them in a nasal, rage-fueled chant. “Pretty vacant!” he screamed, as other drunken male voices joined in behind him. It was the Sex Pistols, no mistake. Sonic played them for her often when they were teenagers. She was not normally one to enjoy hard rock, but in recent years, the band brought back pleasant memories of life in Knothole. It was all so simple before. Part of Sally longed to crawl into the theatre. She needed to escape into the masculine anger that the song encouraged. “I don’t want to be pretty,” she sobbed, as she remembered the doll’s empty eyes. “I don’t want to be vacant.” She remembered the blurred figure however, and was now terrified by what it may represent. She squashed her fists against the broken glass, and bit down on her lip. She continued biting even when she drew blood, either not noticing or not caring.

A glowing green sludge began to fill the alleyway. She bolted up, and noticed the same gooey substance pouring over the skyline. “Gooey…goo…” Sally mouthed to herself. Memories took hold. Sally’s eyes widened with fear. In her waking hours, she could not recall the things Nicole did to her mind. Yet in sleep, the imagery of goo stirred her memories. She screamed in horror as she remembered what her trusted friend had done to her. The memories made her feel violated, and it was more than she could take. Terrified of goo overtaking her again, she dashed wildly into the movie theatre. Her arms thrashed about like a wounded duck as she slammed the door shut. She ran screaming through the theatre, as though all hell chased behind her.

Sally crashed into a screening room, lined with blush red seats. Projected onto the screen was a video of the Sex Pistols wrapping up Pretty Vacant. Sally was blinded by the projector light. She instinctively covered her face with her arms as it continued flickering. “It simply won’t do to stand in front of the screen Princess,” said a voice. “Have a seat by me.” Eager to escape the bright light, Sally staggered toward the voice. Two hands helped her find a seat. They felt like damp clay, and that made Sally shiver. When she opened her eyes Sally was worried at first. The figure before her was clearly a woman, but looked blurred. Did the light damage Sally’s eyes? Then she noticed that the rest of the seat was in perfect focus. Sally hid her eyes behind her hands and began clawing at her face. “Who ARE you?” she whined in a guttural cry. “Who am I?” replied the figure. “Who are you?” When Sally didn’t reply, the figure held something up. “Why don’t you take a look and tell me?”

Sally’s fingernails were clenched tightly in her forehead. They scarred her face as she slid her hands away. She could have sworn she heard the sound of nails on a chalkboard. As irrational as the thought was, it didn’t make any less sense than all of this. Her eyes widened with horror as she saw the self-mutilated monster staring back at her. She opened her mouth, but lacked the breath to scream.

“This isn’t that different from how you looked when you were born,” said the figure. “You were a bloody, disgusting mess then.” The figure pointed towards the movie screen. The Sex Pistols were still playing, but the visuals were different. Sally observed her mother in labor. “Look how much pain you caused her,” said the figure matter-of-factly. Sally recognized the lyrics the singer sang. “She was an animal,” the vocalist crooned as the doctor held up the placenta-drenched parasite by one leg. “She was a bloody disgrace,” he screamed as the doctor slapped the parasite’s back to make it cry. Then he proceeded to cut its umbilical cord. “That’s you,” said the figure.

“I’m not an animal!” Sally screamed, inadvertently in time with the vocalist.

“No…” began the figure, allowing the singer to finish. “It’s an abortion!”

“BODY!” the Sex Pistols screamed as Sally cried, “mommy! I’m not an abortion!”

“No,” the figure said. “But you should’ve been.”

The song abruptly ended, followed by loud static. The sudden change was jolting, and Sally turned her head to look at the screen. The static disappeared, and a young version of her father replaced it. “I told her she should’ve had the abortion!” he screamed hatefully as he tossed a screaming seven year-old girl down a staircase. “Daddy, no! It hurts! IT HURTS!” the little girl cried as the king lunged down after her. Sally tried to open her mouth to tell herself this wasn’t true, but nothing came out. “It’s me,” Sally sobbed finally. “It’s me, Daddy didn’t want me…”

“All secrets are laid bare on the table here Princess,” said the figure. “Even the ones you repress. The servants wouldn’t dare come to your aid, and why should they? Look at you. You’re no princess; you’re the portrait of a typical tomboy.” She pointed at the screen. The young Sally lay bruised and bloodied at the bottom of the staircase, clutching a broken bow-and-arrow. She wore a tattered, home-made Robin Hood outfit. Her father grabbed her by her scalp and lifted her up to face him. “Look at you,” he sneered. “You cut your hair yourself, didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU?”

“Daaadeeeee—, “the young Sally whined.

“DIDN’T YOU?” her father bellowed in response.

“Yes Daddy, it was getting in my eyes… you’re hurting me, please stop, please…”

“You’re supposed to be a princess!” he screamed. “It’s time you started looking like one!” With that, he let her drop to the floor.

“Daddeeee, Daddy I love you, daddeeeee—,” the young Sally wept.

“Oh, shut up you little coward,” hissed Sally’s father as he turned to walk upstairs. “At least Elias is a shaping up to be a half-decent prince. He’ll be able to take over the crown.”

In the movie theatre Sally began weeping again. “Daddy,” she sobbed into her lap. “Please Daddy; I just want you to love me, please…”

“He’ll never love you!” declared a voice on the screen. Sally looked up. Another strange version of Sally appeared on the screen. This duplicate stared directly at Sally. She was covered in diamonds and wore a luxurious white dress. Her hair was perfectly styled, and she had just the right amount of makeup. “He’d love me,” she said as she placed a gorgeous crown on top of her head. Then she sat back on a throne. Sally gawked at her for a few moments. She was different from the others. She was no painted whore, infantile plaything, or sultry temptress. This woman was a portrait of regal loveliness.

“They’d all love me,” said a voice next to Sally’s ear. As Sally turned her head, the last of figure’s blurry aura correlated into a definite form. The woman that sat beside her was the same idealized version of Sally that the princess saw on the screen. “I remember you,” Sally said through tear-stained eyes. “You’re the person Nicole turned me…” she faltered, and gasped for breath. “You’re what Nicole did to me.”

“I’m far more than that,” the figure sneered. “I’m everything you could’ve been. You’re everything you’ve chosen to be. Why do you think Nicole had to do that to you to begin with? She forced you to be intimate with Rotor of all people. The only men interested in you are fat and desperate or coveting royal status. Even under hypnosis, she knew Sonic could never love you. Do you think ANY man could? That’s probably why you grew up fantasizing about your computer for God’s sake. You’re pathetic.”

“Th-that’s not true,” sobbed Sally. “Sonic loves me, he…”

“Sonic would never even look at you,” the figure sneered as she leaned closer to Sally. “He’d look at me,” she finished contemptuously. Sally was beyond words at that point. She looked toward the movie screen. There, her royal duplicate passionately made love to Sonic. The glowing green liquid from outside began to seep into the room, and Sally let out a guttural scream. With rage from the most primal depths of her psyche, she fastened her fingers around her double’s throat. She roared like a wild animal as she choked the life out of the figure when…

The figure disappeared. She did not fade away like a ghost in an old movie. No; she simply blinked out of existence. Sally searched left and right, but the figure was gone. Sally shook her gloved hands with frustration as the room continued to fill up with goo. “Where is she?” Sally hissed. “Where…” Sally paused. She looked back at the white gloves. They were long, and crept up her elbow. She traced them with her eyes. She saw the ruffles around her shoulders, and the beautifully curled hair that sat upon them. There was a mirror, but Sally did not need to look in it. The weight of her crown and the silk stockings underneath her dress said it all. She knew who had won. She knew who she was now.

The room continued to fill up with goo, and she didn’t care. Instead, she watched the screen as it showed images from her childhood, her teenage years, and then her early adulthood. She merely laughed as the screen burst into flames. She allowed the misty pink sensation to consume her mind as she watched everything she used to be consumed in flame. The glowing green fluid began to turn pink. Soon it engulfed Sally, as her laughter turned into hysterical weeping.

[Prince By-Tor]

The writing style is very much in the earlier, pre issue 100 comic book style; really good.
It would be funny now to make one called "Rust never sleeps."