Pollen loved the cinema. She loved Nemean's chaoticness, seeing how the beings were made (she really liked Dawa and Raheerah)- but, most importantly? She loved Rodd Danger. She wanted to meet him, so bad! He was asleep, then, but where? How would she even wake him up, if he'd been asleep for so long?

... Was he dead?

Her first thought was to search for him in Canis, but there must be something in his episodes. The last one, then- would it have him when he fell asleep? Would it show where he was? Oh, Pollen had thought it over and over and eventually caved into asking Isra to put it on for her- or, to ask whoever ran the projector to put it on, but the idea was there.

She hadn't entirely told Aethril about this, but this wouldn't be bad, right? She did stuff without her, anyways, and she knew how much the muta liked Rodd. If she went on a search to wake him up, then that'd be fine, right? He could live in the palace with them! Maybe she could star on his show, even!

So, excitedly (and with a bucket of candy), Pollen sat in front of the screen, watching and waiting for the projector to flicker to life.

(open to any palace residents!)

Aethril was tired of waiting. She was tired of having very little to do-- but, luckily for her, there was a twenty-four-seven stream of reality TV to watch. The clicking of heels announced her before she even entered-- it came to a stop as she stopped by the concession stand.

Today, she got herself an orange soda, hot dog and an ungodly amount of chocolate (you know-- for later) before plodding on towards her usual spot in the theatre. She preferred to sit on one of the larger chairs meant for unusually hugelarge Valkhounds, but she caught a little mint cottonball near the center of the seats, in a beanbag chair that was consuming her.

"Are you here for Rodd again?" Aethril asked as she clip-clopped away, half-dragging one of the larger beanbags towards the little muta and sitting down. "We should see if we can find him."

@Pollen

The lights were just dimming as Aethril took her seat. As she finished speaking, the now-familiar crackle of the sound system flared up.

The music started up, and the catchy theme once again began, the bright cartoon imagery dancing across the screen. The faces of the two-person audience would be lit with the garish colors. 'DANGER!!! IT'S RODD DANGER HERE TO SAVE THE DAY...'

But when the introduction faded out, rather than Rodd's opening monologue, the pair of fans were greeted with an ominous fanfare of deafening trumpets, a loud voice narrating the all-caps title that flashed and shuddered black across the red screen:

"THE LAST RIDE OF RODD DANGER!"

This held for a time, before fading with a crash of thunder into the sight of Rodd with his list. "HEY FELLOW HOUNDS! It'd R-O-Double-D DANGER, here again today to hunt down some nasty villains! Who's on the list today?" The paper was raised, the elf cocking one hand on a hip. Cartoon eyes widened dramatically. "Oh, BOY, today we have a real foul 'un! SOMEONE, or maybe a few SOMEONES, has been stealin' food from stores in Orion-! -Now imagine that, lettin' your fellow Hounds go hungry out of greed?! We're gonna get 'em, folks, and SHOW THEM JUSTICE! ARE YOU READY?"

Canned cheering roared through the theatre as Rodd readied his whip, taking on a heroic pose.

___________

The scene faded into one of travel: Rodd plodding along (barefoot; why it was called a Last Ride was anyone's guess) into the star-speckled cave of Orion. It was dramatized, simplified, the quartz reflections flashing and glinting brightly in the background.

"Now, the first thing we gotta do," and here Rodd came into frame, again, striding jauntily toward a cluster of supplies guarded by two large, canine-looking Valkhounds, "is interview the guards. Maybe they've seen somethin', or maybe--as you well know--we got a traitor in our midst." (A dramatic BONNNNG played.) "Howdy, fellas! RODD DANGER here, to help you track down your food thief," Rodd waved, as he approached. The cache consisted of tied-up animal skins, meat (some still on the bone) hung and laid out, and (far fewer) bundles of plants, fruits and herbs. The two dog-beasts turned to face him, slavering, glowing, and the nearest crept forward in an overly-menacing manner. Then it spoke, cheerful.

"Rodd Danger?! I'm a big fan!" (Light laughter and applause played to the sight of Rodd, close-up, winking and thumbs-upping to the audience!)

"Haha, isn't everybody?! But that's great, son; now can you tell me about these thefts?"

"Someone's been stealin' our meat!"

Rodd laughed. "Well, I figured, buddy! Gimme the details, huh?" The camera closed in on Rodd winking again, and more canned laughter filled the air. What a silly Valkhound!

The scene shifted again, as the guard began to speak; it was a slow pan over rather hastily-painted scenery as described... "Oh-! Well, every time it comes, we get this weird... minty smell all around. It ain't a smell we've ever smelled in these parts," (and was the Valkhound imitating Rodd's speech? A true fan!) "They leave pawprints, but there's been a few different sizes. We left some, over there. But that's all we've got. We never see them coming! We've had to guard the stash constantly for the last two weeks."

"Tsk... greedy fellers. Don't worry, Hounds--we'll get 'em! Come on," and Rodd was gesturing to the viewer, inviting them to join his search.

___________

Loud fanfare faded into slow, suspenseful music, as the cartoon images (hastily painted, again, and jittering here and there) depicted Rodd creeping along the ground. He touched the dirt, rubbed his fingers in it, sniffed it. "We got sign, Hounds," and his voice was quietly excited. The music kicked up a notch-! High-pitched strings, now, wavering tensely atop the ominous bass. A close-up cartoon footprint was shown: many-clawed, large, with what looked like an imprint of scales. "And I smell that minty goodness. I wonder if that's a plant that only grows in one par-tic-u-lar cave?" he mused aloud, looking straight into the 'camera' as he spoke.

"Think about that, Hounds, and we'll be right back after this break..."

___________

As if to give Aethril and Pollen time to digest the first part of the show, a commercial roared into life instead. It played, likely in the background of any conversation they might have for one another: a noisy suggestion to DON'T BE LIKE THE FOOD THIEVES: CONTRIBUTE FOOD TO YOUR LOCAL SUPPLIES! REWARDS FOR POWERFUL HUNTERS; BENEFITS FOR OUR BEST GATHERERS! -with, of course, cartoon depictions of all of the above.

@Pollen

Dang, she should have known she'd be followed! One dastardly, tiny little paw clenched in disbelief. It was Aethril, for sure, but could she really hide from Aethril? Well, she wasn't exactly hiding but the idea was there.

Barely moving from her beanbag, the muta peered up to Aethril, tucking in her candy bucket a little closer. "I'm doing research!" She held out a hand to the screen as it started up. "It's his last episode- now shshs!" One paw waved to her as she leaned in, nearly tumbling from her precarious seat as she stared up at the screen.

She tucked back in when the title card appeared. Last ride? Well, maybe that made sense, but- he wouldn't be dead, then? Her jaw clenched as her mind worried, taking a little bit of candy to eat to soothe her anxieties.

It seemed like a normal episode. Stealing food- why wasn't he riding?- and Valkhounds, and Pollen hummed gently as she thought. No- she researched! She even leaned in with her tiny paw on her tiny face, her expression one of extreme focus. So, he was in Orion... And, mint? Like Nedies used..? She frowned for a moment, left with this question. Where was it grown? Did she grow it? She didn't remember, and she glanced up to Aethril for an answer.

Her ear flicked at the commercial, and she gave naught but a glance to it, instead speaking up over it as she discussed Rodd. "I guess we'll see where mint grows..?" She squeaked out, gesturing to the screen again. "But why mint? Are they cooking with the um- the stolen food? -- We'll see for that, too, I guess..." She quieted for a moment, settling back in with another few bites of candy, thoughtfully chewing at it.

Where was mint grown..?

@Aethril

Aethril's brow wrinkled and she frowned. While she liked Pollen-- she really did --if she'd had told another Hand to shush she could have been killed. If there'd been anyone else around, Aethril would have had to take a drastic action too. The action she was going to take was, in her mind, a mercy.

Chaos flickered at her fingertips, and a sense of dread fell over Pollen's mind. Guilt forced its way into the back of her skull. Why had she done that? That had been rude! She should never, ever tell anyone to 'shshshs' ever again. Who knows what horrible thing could happen to her if she did?

Aethril watched. Then, she fell into the beanbag with a sigh and took a long drink from her orange soda. The Hand was silent as she watched Rodd Danger's final episodes with weary eyes, though she found her mind drifting lazily elsewhere-- to the incubating scout and Elayne, and whichever seafloor Farina had decided to inhabit.

It was Pollen's voice that broke her out of that sort of trance. "They could be," Aethril said distantly, fingers picking the bread of her hot dog. "Even rebels need to feed themselves. It seems like a silly risk to take spices for that, though."

Not that Aethril held many in high regard, but it seemed like an unnecessary step for rebels to take. Unless it was a trap-- and perhaps they wanted to be caught. A cliffhanger would be a tragic end for Pollen's obsession, but she supposed it might be good for her, to have a goal in life.

Even if that goal is 'help Rodd Danger complete his mission.'

Oblivious to the drama in the seats, the inexorable tread of goofy cartoons marched on.

"AND NOW WE RETURN TO... THE LAST RIDE OF ROOOODDD DANGER!"

The scene that flashed into existence now--crackling with age, but brightly-colored--was that of Rodd paused, on one knee, fingertips brushing the snow. The tunnel ahead of him, exposed by a widening circle around him (nothing but black around it, until the screen was all cartoon again) was broad, snow-swept and studden with boulders, with cartoony whirls of wind sweeping all around. Bad cartoon wind sound effects whooshed and howled around him, but quieted down when Rodd made to speak.

He looked directly at the 'camera.'

"Now, Hounds, what we got here's somethin' tellin'. That minty smell's brought us all the way out here--through two tunnels and a cave, can you believe it? Who knows where they're goin', or how they got past the guards... but we got tracks," he whispered, and turned to gesture down again.

Fingers gestured even as the picture zoomed in: a long, flattened area of snow. "Looks like they were draggin' somethin'! Maybe them supplies..." Rodd suggested, flashing a knowing wink at his attentive audience. He turned and crept forward, and now began the familiar, silly "suspense" music, with its high-pitched strings whining and the occasional bright pluck of single notes.

"Now, the question is, where were they headin'? Looks like they musta been pretty desperate," he added, his voice still quite soft. "But we'll get 'em, Hounds. We-"

Rodd had pulled ahead, as he spoke, until he was some thirty yards off--and now, suddenly, a dark shape crashed down on him from above. It had lain in wait, by looks--atop one of the boulders, hidden in the shadows and by swirling snow, and now it slammed Rodd down into the snow. The pair tangled, grunts and cries not censored as they battled--and the camera began to rush forward, as if whoever was behind it was intending to come help.

Then another shape, from above--and another, each different than the last; some larger, or with more limbs, others with spikes. A total of five of them tangled into Rodd's downed body, and his language abruptly was bleeped out--a string of BEEEPS that rang through the theatre as the shadowy forms fought.

The "cameraman" stopped, and backed slowly away. A pair of glowing eyes swept up from the fight to regard him. "Go. And don't come back. Or we'll kill you," snarled the voice. "Tell everyone that we're in the RIGHT. We're starving, and-" Here, the voice cut out--replaced by a poor imitation. "-we'll steal YOUR food to live. We don't care if YOU starve. It's better that way--less of you to KILL," the imitation said, but the cartoon speaker had already turned away.

Rodd was dragged down the tunnel as the cartoon cut to black.

"AND HE WAS NEVER SEEN AGAIN..." A sad tune began to play, and color flooded back in, with slow flashbacks from all of Rodd's various hunts. Rodd, creeping through a jungle; Rodd, staked out in a pine tree, his trusted whip at the ready; Rodd, frowning as he inspected a riverbank. A narration began overtop it. "For as long as any of us can remember, Rodd Danger was our guardian: the only one standing between us and the cruelty of the Rebels. Honor his memory, Hounds," and this might've seemed a little incongruous with the scenes, now playing, of Rodd tying up and cutting down several of those very Rebels, blood spilling across the rock in gory violence; "and hunt those Rebels wherever you find him. Rodd's out there, somewhere, and he's counting on you..."

A short clip of Rodd, grinning and waving at the audience, was played; and then the image again faded to black.

The lights came up; the show was over. The music trailed away.

@Pollen

Pollen frowned. The alien guilt took over and she paused for a moment, thinking she realized herself that it probably wasn't a nice thing to do. Oh, no. She sunk into her chair and frowned, pulling her candy bucket closer. A thousand apologies ran through her mind. Her head retreated to her shoulders, and she froze, staring down into her candy for a moment.

Her words had come out small and sheepish, and she glanced up to Aethril when the Hand responded. Her ears flicked up, and her mood lightened a little, focus diverted to concern. What were the rebels up to..?

When the commercial ended, she turned her eyes back to the screen, faintly started by the familiar loud voice. Back to the adventure- and he was still tracking, off into the snow (where was snow..?) and into the unknown. If he started in Orion and went through- what, two tunnels and a cave, that would put him at... The tunnel from Polaris to Ursa? As she struggled to triangulate it, Rodd was jumped, and so too did Pollen.

She... Wasn't sure, about the absolute brutality of it. He was in trouble- "Why's there so many?" Pollen squeaked, leaning forward. Strings of loud noises made her flinch back at each one. Her heart beat hard in her chest, and her nails dug into the edges of the bowl, her whole body tensed. They were mean. They were- what were they doing with him? How could they win?

She didn't want to think about it. But the booming announcer brought tears to her eyes, and she clutched that bowl with everything she had. Rodd was- he was dead? His eulogy played out, and she sniffled, trying to hold back tears. He was her guardian... He was gone..! Dramatically, she threw back her head and wailed disgustingly, tears streaming down her face.

"HE'S GONE!" she cried helplessly, before muffling her cries by stuffing her face into her candy bucket. Who could do such a thing? Why would a rebel do that? How cruel could someone be, to take away her favorite movie star?

'Rodd's out there...' They didn't kill him on screen, so- was there hope? Pollen drew back her face, her wailing halted. Her face had gone red and puffy under the thin fur of her muzzle, and she sniffled, watching Rodd wave one last goodbye. Was he truly gone? The tunnel, that tunnel he was in... Ursa was the snowy kind of place, so he must have been in one of its tunnels. But which one?

She tried her best to look determined. "Is he-- he's not-- not dead, right?" Her voice came out as a measly whimper, barely audible as she turned her wet eyes to Aethril.

She had to find him.

@Aethril
+1 corruption [3 total]

Well, that was abrupt.

Aethril's eyes shifted sidelong to Pollen and, as if on queue, the muta was absolutely distraught. The Hand wasn't very good at dealing with other people's emotions, particularly with children upset that their favourite hero might be face-down in a ditch somewhere, just a rock.

She took a slow sip from her soda. "Not necessarily," Aethril offered. "He could be asleep in a chrysalis. He might be buried somewhere." If Pollen were going to go out and try to look for it, it'd be a good idea to bring a shovel, she mused quietly.

Eyes flicked to the screen. "The Hive has some kind of base of operations in Ursa, I believe. Potentially. They might be keeping him in there." Though, would they be keeping him still? For what reason?

The Hand shifted in her seat, humming weakly. "It's quite far."

@Pollen