Chapter Nineteen: Rogue

"You sure about this?" asked Biter.

"You doubting me?" retorted the dragon. "Just do as I say and there won't be any.... problems. Got it?"

"I just... don't know if I'm qualified for this. I mean, I am exceptionally good at killing people, but--"

"Just shut up already! Alright?" the dragon replied. He muttered something extremely offensive about dinosaurs not having the guts to do what they need to, and flew off.

Biter didn't mind the view, though he wasn't happy about his job. Guarding the castle. Feh. Sounded like work for a knight, not for a genetically enhanced lizard whose specialty was killing everything and anything. Actually, it seemed more like a job for a dragon... the coward.

But he couldn't help but relax as he watched the sun set over the horizon from the balcony of the terrace. He always loved being up high. He had a strange half-fear of heights that always confused him; if he was standing on a ladder, or something at a similar height, he was always terrified of falling. He knew it was dangerous, and it scared him to think of the consequences if he acted poorly on that account.

But if he was, say, up as high as he was -- which he estimated to be at least 300 feet up -- he felt invincible. He could see everything, like he was a god, almost. And it felt thrilling. The biting wind just added to his bliss. He never really minded the cold, which was odd for a lizard, being coldblooded and all. Plus, you know -- the wind was biting. It was his name, of course he liked things that bit.

"So, what's the deal?" asked an annoyingly familiar voice. Biter turned from his kingdom to see who it was, and to his surprise, he was staring at the star guy... what was his name? South? North? Didn't matter anyway, it wasn't like he remembered anyone else's names.

"Ugh," said Biter, sounding disgusted, or at least as much as he could manage. He was more surprised than anything else. "I thought you were dead."

"Thanks for the vote of luck," said North, grudgingly.

"Uh, it's, 'thanks for the vote of confidence,'" corrected Biter. "And anyway, what are you doing here? I thought you were in the doghouse. Myself, on the other hand, hit it off with the old bag of scales. I'm pretty sure. Hard to tell with him swearing like a sailor."

"Ah," said North. "That is one thing I would know about."

Suddenly a new voice rang out, echoing through the cylindrical terrace, becoming clearer as it got closer. "What is going on here? I hate to barge in -- oh, wait, no I don't. Who are you imbi-- ah. Should've known." By now the owner of the voice had made it to the top of the balcony, becoming clearly visible in the red, fading light.

It was The Super. Well, not actually. He looked almost exactly like him, though. Biter remembered having lunch with him a few times, but he never really said anything. Ever.

The biggest difference between this guy and the real Super was the color of his skin. Rather than having the blue-green tint of The Super's skin, this guy's complexion was more of a yellowish-orange. The cape he wore was a deep blue, instead of red, and his cap (to be honest, it looked like it was fitted with an old-fashioned TV antenna -- what was with that, anyway?) was red, in contrast to the famous hero's purple one. Plus, this dude had the wickedest evil grin Biter had ever seen before.

"Uh," said Biter. "Hi, again. Never caught your name before."

"That is simply because I never gave it to you."

There was a pause.

"Usually," cut in North, "this is where you tell us your name."

"I have no use of such things," sniffed the guy. "But, if you simply cannot continue without such a piece of information, call me simply: The Villain."

"Wow, so much useless information to get two stinking words," griped Biter. "And I thought you were the quiet one..." He scratched his head as he turned back to face the wind.

"Where is the blue one? He is not around.... is he?" The Villain asked tentatively.

"No," said Biter. "He appears to have disappeared. Two more things," he added, turning around to face the others again. "One: His name is The Blue Octo. Two: Are you... scared of him, or something?"

"No," answered The Villain, a little too quickly.

North burst out laughing. "Are you jesting? That lump of tentacles couldn't hurt a bee!"

"It's 'fly,' and: no one calls him a lump of tentacles but me. Also, ew. I'd say he's more of a mop, anyway." said Biter. "But seriously. What's your glitch with T-Bo?"

"Ah... T-Bone? Excuse me?" asked The Villain.

"HA!" shouted North. "I'm not the only one!"

"What?"

"Look, okay," said Biter. "Why're you such a scaredy-cat about The Blue Octo? What makes you so nervous about him? He's like, the most intellectual one of any of us, for crying out loud."

"It's... a long story."

Biter gestured at the empty castle, the barren plains around them. "We have plenty of time."

"What is our assignment here, anyway?" asked The Villain.

"What kind of name is 'The Villain,' anyway?" retorted Biter.

"No, seriously," said The Villain, the words slow in his mouth. He obviously just borrowed them from earlier in the conversation.

"No, seriously," repeated Biter, much more naturally.

"...It was a name I gave myself. The Super had earned his name; I felt I should have a fitting title such as that as well."

"Hm..." said Biter, over-exaggerating thinking about this information. "Doesn't fit nearly well as 'The Super.' Or 'Biter.' Or, heck, even 'North,' for crying out loud."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well," said Biter, "as you said, The Super earned his title. North was given his name, too, by the people of this planet. And I, I was given the name Biter in my earlier stages of development because of certain... tendencies... before reaching adulthood. All of us had our names layered carefully on top of our current titles and accomplishments. But you just sort of shoved yours in there, moving over what already existed. You might have tried to hide it, but the edges still stick out a bit. Make sense?"

"...In a way, I suppose," said The Villain. But now that I have answered your question, you must answer mine."

"Oh, must I?" sassed Biter, but North elbowed him.

"Okay, fine," said Biter, giving in. "I actually don't know much. The plan is to really just hang out in this castle, until the 'good guys', including The Super-- come close enough. Then we just, I dunno, battle. If we start losing we can retreat to the next castle and hang out there, doubling the forces for the next round of fighting."

"Sounds like a pretty skimpy plan to me," grumbled North.

"What makes you say that?" asked Biter.

"I mean, we'd need at least four guys to battle them."

"And what makes you say that? There are only four of them, surely we could--"

"Five." The Villain stared off into the distance, and it wasn't clear if he knew he'd said it out loud or not.

"Uh," stammered North, "what?"

"There are five of them. The Super, the older girl, the younger one, the boy, and then... a fifth party. I can't quite tell... Blast. Lost them. The Super must be keeping them as far away from my sight as possible, the nerve..." The Villain trailed off as he searched the empty air with his eyes, looking for something that as far as Biter could tell never existed in the first place.

"What are you talking about? It's not like you can see them from this far away. Right?" Biter wasn't so sure what was going on.

"That is exactly what is going on," said The Villain, lost in thought. Suddenly he perked up, as if a cloud had gone from his head and he could finally see again. "When did you say the blue tentacled creature disappeared?"

"Last night," said Biter. "This relevant, in any way, whatsoever?"

"Were any objects of yours missing?"

"Nothing, except for..." Biter suddenly froze with fear. A fifth party... Oh, T-Bo...

"Except for what?"

"The map I'd found yesterday morning. I assumed I had just misplaced it. But now..."

"My friends," said The Villain, "and I use that term lightly, by the way; it appears that your good friend The Blue Octo has gone rogue."





Hey, guys. I've got a slight fever. I can't sleep; I keep getting too hot or too cold. I can never find a comfortable position, either. It's just really frustrating. So I wrote something to help my nerves. (Sorry, Mom.) And nothing is more fun than writing about Biter.

So, yeah. Expect more writing to be happenin' next week, and the week after that. Because I don't have school then -- Yay, Christmas! -- so I'll have a lot more free time on my hands.

And sorry about the last post being so long... I just couldn't end the thing. It was kind of annoying, actually. Maybe that's why it never got more than three views. And I think two of those are mine.

I hope you're reading this one, though. It's significantly shorter, and more fun to read, I like to think.
So, enjoy. And have fun, and stuff.

                ~PolarFarina.