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"writing": "Niel was handed to, of all people, the doberman who’d kidnapped and guarded him. The man grinned as he pulled the raccoon to the pedestal. There, Wieland was taken off his back, draped over it, covering the carving of the German shepherd. Niel was held before the place with the raccoon. And this close, he could make out there was a sense the man depicted was older, refined. In fact, he’d seen that same expression on the faculty pictures of Jarod he’d come across.\n\nWas that supposed to be Jarod? If so, did it mean it wasn’t the meeting with a god that had made him younger, and there was a chance Niel wasn’t spending the rest of eternity below the drinking age?? Or had this been carved based on a picture of the man? Or was he imagining the resemblance because this was about the Survivors and Jarod was the only raccoon among them he knew? That existed.\n\nSo, yes, that had to be him.\n\nNiel looked over at the large, and still growing, crowd of Neo-Nazis assembled in the chamber. Maybe the rest of his life wasn’t going to be all that long.\n\nDario and Fedor were moved to their corresponding place, the Dalmatian holding onto the Pallas cat. And the kishu was shoved to his by a lean wolf with a vicious scar across his muzzle that looked fresh.\n\nThe floor was carved, Niel noticed. The pedestal was in the center of a circle, and each position had a line from it to the circumference. From there, the lines traveled within the circle, creating geometrical patterns that had to mean something, Niel was sure of it, but he couldn’t tell what.\n\nThe tone of the crowd shifted, grew more excited as they turned to look the way they’d come. Even the doberman did so.\n\nA powerfully build man stepped into the cavern, with an entourage of a dozen other men. As they stepped closer, the man resolved into a wolf with brown and gray fur. To his left was the husky Niel remember from their brief, and painful, encounter. The husky glared at the crowd as they started hooting and fist pumping, while the wolf only reacted to them by smiling.\n\nThe wolf turned out to be younger than Niel expected; younger than Stewart, even. His early forties, at most. He looked over the five of them with satisfaction, and Niel decided he’d look better with his fist firmly planted in that face.\n\nThe wolf faced the crowd and spoke. In German. The Doberman swore in English, and Niel smirked before focusing on what was being said.\n\nThe man spoke in a firm tone that carried to the back of the chamber; someone used to addressing crowds.\n\nNiel made out enough to get the man spoke of pride in the Fatherland. Something about a quest, a relic. Of rebuilding the people. No, he had to mean the country. Perfecting themselves. Of Wolf-Dogs? Here the man pointed to the carving in the door, talked about glories, something about the past, and the future.\n\nOf raising Canidae above all others; where they belonged.\n\nThe crowd cheered.\n\nAt least there had been no mention of Hitler, so this couldn’t be all bad, right? He rolled his eyes at himself.\n\nHe needed a plan. \n\nThe crowd was paying attention to the wolf, not him. His guard wasn’t even doing that, looking around in boredom. One solid shoulder hit and the doberman would be on his ass. His chains had enough slack he could manage a fast walk without tripping, so he could… what? Body-check a few hundred men to reach the door? They were armed, so maybe he could get one of them to shoot him and ruin this oh-so important event. \n\nThe wolf raised a hand, and the crowd quieted. He stepped aside, and the husky took his place. When he spoke, his tone was shark and direct, not to be disobeyed. He was giving instructions, not rallying the troupes.\n\nThe seal would open, no, break. The Alphas would—no, Alpha group would go in. Niel cursed is below even rudimentary German. Then Beta, Gamma and Delta. The others would unite in—what? Oh, stand at the ready for when the order to enter came.\n\nThe husky looked over his shoulder and locked eyes with Niel before looking at the crowd again. He order them not to dispose of the keys until the relic was in the leader’s hands, but they could hurt them as they saw fit if they caused trouble.\n\n“Oh, great,” Niel grumbled. It wasn’t enough to be relegated to the status of an object, but he was one they could scratch and bend as much as they wanted, so long as he still fit the lock. Whatever that was.\n\n“If he was hitting on you,” the doberman growled, “I’m going to kill you.”\n\nNiel looked at the doberman and slowly tilted an ear in amusement. “So, that’s who you’re a bitch for.” He smirked. “I knew you weren’t a top.”\n\nThe doberman’s fist was in the air, but the dalmatian grabbed it. “If you aren’t going to follow ordered,” he hissed, “you should have stayed in your country.”\n\n“How the fuck am I supposed to know what to do when they don’t speak English.” The ‘dumb-ass’ was damned loud, considering it was unsaid.\n\nNiel only got a few of the insults the Dalmatian threw at the Doberman in German, and they were enough to have him snorting. Before the doberman could reply, the wolf gave an order, and the dalmatian was next to Fedor again.\n\n“It’s time to get them to break the seal,” he translated for the doberman. The the tone grew worried. “Tell me you remember what needs to be done?”\n\n“Hand to the heart so it will pump again,” the doberman replied with a roll of the eyes. “Ain’t a heart I want his hand pumping,” he muttered as he pushed Niel against the pedestal.\n\n“Feel free to fuck me over this thing,” Niel said, studying the top of the pedestal. It had been obvious that whatever their roles were in this, it would involve it, but the hand to heart thing confused him until he noticed the cavity; and its shape. \n\nIt wasn’t the cute kind of heart he’d find on a Valentine’s card. It was as if someone had carved an actual heart out of the top of the pedestal, and they hadn’t been pretty about it. He could make out ragged edged arteries and veins branching from it and connecting to the others from the cavities before the four others. They formed shapes that—\n\nFedor let out a pained yelped as the dalmatian punch his shoulder hard enough the Pallas cat kept whimpering as his hand was pushed into the cavity. Wieland was too drugged to react. Dario looked at Fedor, then straightened, glaring at the poodle holding him. He pulled his hand out of the grip and slapped it away when the poodle tried to take it again, saying something in Spanish in a defiant tone.\n\nThe poodle raised a hand, but the dalmatian snapped an order to stop him, then spoke too quickly for Niel to make out more than ‘the bag’. Before he could work out what that might mean, the poodle pulled a plastic bag out of a pocket. It was on the larger side, and as he raised it over Dario’s head, the capybara’s eyes went wide in terror and he pushed his hand into the cavity.\n\nThe wolf holding the kishu yelped as he slapped his hand away, glaring as he put his hand into the cavity, as if that was the act of defiance.\n\nNiel looked at the smirking Doberman. “I dare you to try and get my hand in there.”\n\nThe doberman reached, and Niel straightened, pushing him off balance. Then, he didn’t hold back when he shoulder-checked him. The Doberman went down, holding onto his chest. Niel turn for the exit and found himself facing a revolver.\n\n“You enjoy causing trouble,” the husky said in accented English. \n\nNiel forced the fear down and smiled. “Why don’t you make me pay for my insolence?”\n\nThe husky raised an eyebrow at the comment, considered it, then shrugged. He pulled the hammer on the revolver, and Niel watched, stunned this on-the-fly idea was working. The gun dropped before firing.\n\nIn the following silence caused by his ringing ears, Niel’s nose tickled by the scent of, he guessed, gunpowder. He sneezed, and pain exploded from his leg. He fell, cursing the husky by all the names he could think of.\n\n“Stand,” the husky ordered the doberman, with enough disgust it made it through Niel’s pain. “You’re an insult to Canidae, letting this…” the husky snorted. “Get the best of you. Get him to the pedestal and this time, if he tries something, even a simpleton like you can stop him.” He turned and rejoined the wolf.\n\nNiel was yanked off the floor and bit back the pain. The doberman shook him, and the pain was too much. Niel screamed. Then he was against the pedestal, the doberman on top of him. “When this is over,” he growled in his ear, grabbing Niel’s hand. “I’m going to fucking make you pay for making me look bad in front of him.”\n\nNiel looked up as the doberman shoved his hand in the cavity. Fedor was a crying mess. The kishu looked at Niel, stunned. Wieland might be unconscious, and Dario’s eyes were fixed on the pedestal.\n\nNiel started to turn his head to glare at the doberman, but something in that hole clamped on his hand. He pulled, staring at the hole, but his hand wouldn’t move. “Oh, this isn’t—Oh mother fucking son of a bitch!”\n\nHis good leg nearly bucked out from under him, but he grabbed onto the pedestal. He wasn’t fucking giving the doberman the satisfaction of falling. He didn’t care how much he felt like the room shook due to the blood this thing had to be sucking out of him.\n\nHe glared at the doberman, but he and, after a check over his shoulder, everyone in the chamber was looking at the door in expectation. Niel looked there too. He was suffering to get the damned thing open; he was going to see what was on the—\n\nThe floor dropped out from under his feet.",
"writing_bbcode_parsed": "Niel was handed to, of all people, the doberman who’d kidnapped and guarded him. The man grinned as he pulled the raccoon to the pedestal. There, Wieland was taken off his back, draped over it, covering the carving of the German shepherd. Niel was held before the place with the raccoon. And this close, he could make out there was a sense the man depicted was older, refined. In fact, he’d seen that same expression on the faculty pictures of Jarod he’d come across.
Was that supposed to be Jarod? If so, did it mean it wasn’t the meeting with a god that had made him younger, and there was a chance Niel wasn’t spending the rest of eternity below the drinking age?? Or had this been carved based on a picture of the man? Or was he imagining the resemblance because this was about the Survivors and Jarod was the only raccoon among them he knew? That existed.
So, yes, that had to be him.
Niel looked over at the large, and still growing, crowd of Neo-Nazis assembled in the chamber. Maybe the rest of his life wasn’t going to be all that long.
Dario and Fedor were moved to their corresponding place, the Dalmatian holding onto the Pallas cat. And the kishu was shoved to his by a lean wolf with a vicious scar across his muzzle that looked fresh.
The floor was carved, Niel noticed. The pedestal was in the center of a circle, and each position had a line from it to the circumference. From there, the lines traveled within the circle, creating geometrical patterns that had to mean something, Niel was sure of it, but he couldn’t tell what.
The tone of the crowd shifted, grew more excited as they turned to look the way they’d come. Even the doberman did so.
A powerfully build man stepped into the cavern, with an entourage of a dozen other men. As they stepped closer, the man resolved into a wolf with brown and gray fur. To his left was the husky Niel remember from their brief, and painful, encounter. The husky glared at the crowd as they started hooting and fist pumping, while the wolf only reacted to them by smiling.
The wolf turned out to be younger than Niel expected; younger than Stewart, even. His early forties, at most. He looked over the five of them with satisfaction, and Niel decided he’d look better with his fist firmly planted in that face.
The wolf faced the crowd and spoke. In German. The Doberman swore in English, and Niel smirked before focusing on what was being said.
The man spoke in a firm tone that carried to the back of the chamber; someone used to addressing crowds.
Niel made out enough to get the man spoke of pride in the Fatherland. Something about a quest, a relic. Of rebuilding the people. No, he had to mean the country. Perfecting themselves. Of Wolf-Dogs? Here the man pointed to the carving in the door, talked about glories, something about the past, and the future.
Of raising Canidae above all others; where they belonged.
The crowd cheered.
At least there had been no mention of Hitler, so this couldn’t be all bad, right? He rolled his eyes at himself.
He needed a plan.
The crowd was paying attention to the wolf, not him. His guard wasn’t even doing that, looking around in boredom. One solid shoulder hit and the doberman would be on his ass. His chains had enough slack he could manage a fast walk without tripping, so he could… what? Body-check a few hundred men to reach the door? They were armed, so maybe he could get one of them to shoot him and ruin this oh-so important event.
The wolf raised a hand, and the crowd quieted. He stepped aside, and the husky took his place. When he spoke, his tone was shark and direct, not to be disobeyed. He was giving instructions, not rallying the troupes.
The seal would open, no, break. The Alphas would—no, Alpha group would go in. Niel cursed is below even rudimentary German. Then Beta, Gamma and Delta. The others would unite in—what? Oh, stand at the ready for when the order to enter came.
The husky looked over his shoulder and locked eyes with Niel before looking at the crowd again. He order them not to dispose of the keys until the relic was in the leader’s hands, but they could hurt them as they saw fit if they caused trouble.
“Oh, great,” Niel grumbled. It wasn’t enough to be relegated to the status of an object, but he was one they could scratch and bend as much as they wanted, so long as he still fit the lock. Whatever that was.
“If he was hitting on you,” the doberman growled, “I’m going to kill you.”
Niel looked at the doberman and slowly tilted an ear in amusement. “So, that’s who you’re a bitch for.” He smirked. “I knew you weren’t a top.”
The doberman’s fist was in the air, but the dalmatian grabbed it. “If you aren’t going to follow ordered,” he hissed, “you should have stayed in your country.”
“How the fuck am I supposed to know what to do when they don’t speak English.” The ‘dumb-ass’ was damned loud, considering it was unsaid.
Niel only got a few of the insults the Dalmatian threw at the Doberman in German, and they were enough to have him snorting. Before the doberman could reply, the wolf gave an order, and the dalmatian was next to Fedor again.
“It’s time to get them to break the seal,” he translated for the doberman. The the tone grew worried. “Tell me you remember what needs to be done?”
“Hand to the heart so it will pump again,” the doberman replied with a roll of the eyes. “Ain’t a heart I want his hand pumping,” he muttered as he pushed Niel against the pedestal.
“Feel free to fuck me over this thing,” Niel said, studying the top of the pedestal. It had been obvious that whatever their roles were in this, it would involve it, but the hand to heart thing confused him until he noticed the cavity; and its shape.
It wasn’t the cute kind of heart he’d find on a Valentine’s card. It was as if someone had carved an actual heart out of the top of the pedestal, and they hadn’t been pretty about it. He could make out ragged edged arteries and veins branching from it and connecting to the others from the cavities before the four others. They formed shapes that—
Fedor let out a pained yelped as the dalmatian punch his shoulder hard enough the Pallas cat kept whimpering as his hand was pushed into the cavity. Wieland was too drugged to react. Dario looked at Fedor, then straightened, glaring at the poodle holding him. He pulled his hand out of the grip and slapped it away when the poodle tried to take it again, saying something in Spanish in a defiant tone.
The poodle raised a hand, but the dalmatian snapped an order to stop him, then spoke too quickly for Niel to make out more than ‘the bag’. Before he could work out what that might mean, the poodle pulled a plastic bag out of a pocket. It was on the larger side, and as he raised it over Dario’s head, the capybara’s eyes went wide in terror and he pushed his hand into the cavity.
The wolf holding the kishu yelped as he slapped his hand away, glaring as he put his hand into the cavity, as if that was the act of defiance.
Niel looked at the smirking Doberman. “I dare you to try and get my hand in there.”
The doberman reached, and Niel straightened, pushing him off balance. Then, he didn’t hold back when he shoulder-checked him. The Doberman went down, holding onto his chest. Niel turn for the exit and found himself facing a revolver.
“You enjoy causing trouble,” the husky said in accented English.
Niel forced the fear down and smiled. “Why don’t you make me pay for my insolence?”
The husky raised an eyebrow at the comment, considered it, then shrugged. He pulled the hammer on the revolver, and Niel watched, stunned this on-the-fly idea was working. The gun dropped before firing.
In the following silence caused by his ringing ears, Niel’s nose tickled by the scent of, he guessed, gunpowder. He sneezed, and pain exploded from his leg. He fell, cursing the husky by all the names he could think of.
“Stand,” the husky ordered the doberman, with enough disgust it made it through Niel’s pain. “You’re an insult to Canidae, letting this…” the husky snorted. “Get the best of you. Get him to the pedestal and this time, if he tries something, even a simpleton like you can stop him.” He turned and rejoined the wolf.
Niel was yanked off the floor and bit back the pain. The doberman shook him, and the pain was too much. Niel screamed. Then he was against the pedestal, the doberman on top of him. “When this is over,” he growled in his ear, grabbing Niel’s hand. “I’m going to fucking make you pay for making me look bad in front of him.”
Niel looked up as the doberman shoved his hand in the cavity. Fedor was a crying mess. The kishu looked at Niel, stunned. Wieland might be unconscious, and Dario’s eyes were fixed on the pedestal.
Niel started to turn his head to glare at the doberman, but something in that hole clamped on his hand. He pulled, staring at the hole, but his hand wouldn’t move. “Oh, this isn’t—Oh mother fucking son of a bitch!”
His good leg nearly bucked out from under him, but he grabbed onto the pedestal. He wasn’t fucking giving the doberman the satisfaction of falling. He didn’t care how much he felt like the room shook due to the blood this thing had to be sucking out of him.
He glared at the doberman, but he and, after a check over his shoulder, everyone in the chamber was looking at the door in expectation. Niel looked there too. He was suffering to get the damned thing open; he was going to see what was on the—
The floor dropped out from under his feet.",
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"title": "Hope in Coincidences, CH 26",
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