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Post by Judge Claude Frollo on Mar 11, 2009 23:19:19 GMT -5
The afternoon came about like an unpleasant plague; the square was without many people; the shops, relatively empty, bare without its usual influx of tourists; the noise of chirping and flapping of the birds, of cheer and joy, which escaped through their beaks, was audible. An unusual day to behold, Frollo thought to himself idly, with an air of pessimism.
Through the atmosphere which the warmth of the afternoon air spread over the premises, a handsome figure could be seen panting, and from time to time a burst of confusion broke forth from the irked minister.
The bit of tourists, who were going about their business, seemed to go along without so much as glancing at the questionable panting. Frollo was inclined to think unhealthy, ill thoughts about what might’ve caused it, but he would dwell no longer before his stomach twisted knots from disgust. Unable to take more of it, he was quick to hurl an intolerable:
“What is that infernal wheezing?”
Nevertheless, the vexed man was perched on his horse like a hawk, gazing about incessantly, and going no further from where he sat. He looked around steadily, without rush, and spotted the culprit. His brow was clouded with bewilderment, lips parted to express his shock, and, with a disdainful wrinkle of his nose, he snarled . . .
“You.”
[We meet aggaaaaiiinnn . . .]
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Post by Deleted on Mar 17, 2009 5:14:03 GMT -5
As the fox sauntered closer to the perky cherub, his diffusive tongue continued lolling out of his stretched trap with hunger and his whiskery lips parted indolently to reveal a gleaming, acute set of fangs. He was very adjacent to the young girl now, his gangly shadow forming consolidation with her petite one and the outline of his vacant and terrifyingly vast mouth was visible on the blazing, hard street below. The child's head immediately swiveled around and a piercing scream emerged from her belly and rose out of her meek throat while the carnivorous animal jeered, trying to pull her aside and sink his teeth into her rotund, little arm. His muzzle was a fraction of an inch away before he heard what would be an obvious disruption to his meal.
"Sarah?" a plump woman with a Southern accent drawled several feet away, her tone traced with exasperation and perplexity. "Oh, Sarah, where have you gone now?"
The fox instantly clamped a furry paw tightly over the little girl's pout and he started to drag her away, searching for an isolated section where they could be alone. Well, in a matter of time, he could have some peaceful solitude away from the irritating tourists anyway...and a sedated appetite. He continued to weave through the road with the girl held at bay, stopping every once in a while to hide behind a pole. When he decided that the coast was clear and he was ready to take her into the most deserted section of the street, he turned a corner and came to an abrupt halt as a noble looking, elder man alighting a black horse was blocking the way.
Hell...no.
The cannibal swallowed uncomfortably and kept his grip of the little human secure while he tried to muster up one of his oily grins. To say Judge Claude Frollo was not the most agreeable or easily persuaded man was beyond an understatement and he recalled the last time he had crossed paths with the cruel reciprocal, trying to sustain a nasty giggle.
"Well, well...if it ain't da geezah from Notre Dame..." the fuzzy twit mused spitefully. "What? Did dey kick ya out o' somethang? Too ol' fo' da people ta listen ta yo muckeh preachin' anymo'? What is ya up ta now, gran'pa, patrollin' da streets like some kinda senile cop? Ya'd think a man at yo age woul' beh worried 'bout breakin' a hip in da outside worl'..."
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Post by Judge Claude Frollo on Mar 17, 2009 7:53:27 GMT -5
In the beginning, Frollo had sympathy for the child. The fox kidnapped her, bit her, and made her cry. But the minister noticed that the girl had strayed from her mother, and the deed was done, so he stayed perched on his horse and did nothing.
Speaking of Brer Fox, they'd argued together and scowled together, and battled each other in a game of wits. This meeting wasn't a pleasant one - never would be, actually. Curious Frollo took one of the buttons from the girl's jacket and observed it. It was the first trinket of a commoner. "You are of no use to society," Frollo said smoothly, flicking the button away with a slender finger. "So why should I care?"
He would not stop fate. He was not God to give, take life.
"d**ned, child, d**ned." He said, arching an amused eyebrow.
Frollo swore creatively in French as he fumbled to come up with a comeback. He'd face worst insults, but he was so intrigued with the child, that he could not come up with anything than a glare.
"Escaped from the ghetto, have you?" he sneered, tossing a dagger near his foot, missing by an inch. He did this on purpose, really.
"Where's your owner, heathen?" He hissed.
He would claim Brer Fox and make him his slave himself . . .
[Wow, Frollo's having a racist moment. X/ -Wants to kill Frollo so bad- <3 I'm all for anti-racism, but you know how Frollo can be. D< xD]
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Post by Deleted on Apr 7, 2009 15:18:27 GMT -5
( Nya... ;_; *bites Fro-gurt* XP) The fox continued to clench his long fingers on the little girl's stout arms rigidly, deaf to her cries about the mean old man ruining her jacket. The fuzzy taunter rolled his bulbous, sable eyes in irritation as she continued to protest, claiming that they both owed her for the missing button and he lifted one of his gangly hands swiftly, as though he was about wallop one of the brat's shining, tear stained cheeks. Before his hairy palm could connect with her face, she had stomped hard on his tail at the exact same time that Frollo had whipped the knife at him.
He gave a shrill, feminine yelp and struggled to keep his balance, nearly pulling Sarah down with him while she writhed and kicked at him even more, eventually breaking free. She emerged into a sprint down the road, going as fast as her stubby legs could carry her and the fox sat in a heap on the ground, glowering heinously at the elder man. Thanks to his unwelcome presence, the louse had gotten too distracted and his much needed lunch had gone astray. But the cruel judge's next words stung Foxy's nerves even more fiercely. His fangs clamped down in fury and a vein in his skinny neck throbbed violently.
"WHY, YA NO GOOD, FILTHEH, DISGUSTIN' SACK O' PREJUDICE PUS!" he screamed ravenously, jumping back onto his ski like feet so fast, he could've tripped over and fallen onto his face again. "Ya ugleh, immoral--" The animal continued to shriek at the judge, every other sentence laced with some extremely lewd swear. "I'LL SHOW YA, YA OL' SONUVA--YO GON' PAY FO' DAT, YA SHO' WILL! I'LL SKIN YO UNTOUCHED, IMMORAL REAH!"
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