Ryon Rising Revision
*thunk*
Yet another arrow hit its mark upon the board, the satisfying sound of targets achieved echoing throughout his backyard.
“Another accurate hit; I think I’ll call it a day.”
With bow in hand, the young rat went to retrieve his arrows and target board. Archery equipment in had, he went back inside of his little home.
“So, now what’s on the agenda for today?” he asked himself, hanging his equipment on the wall where it was before, “Other than practicing, I’ve got nothing to do.”
His name is Ryon Bahamouse. He’s been skilled with a bow and arrow since he was just a child. Now, at 17, he’s considered to be one of the best marksmen from his neighborhood.
“Man, I’ve got to get a job soon,” he said aloud, sitting in an armchair in his living room, “I don’t want to have to keep depending on the cash in the letters that my parents send. Still, I hope that they’re enjoying themselves on their vacation.”
One month earlier, his parents had won a contest and were given a large sum of money. With those funds, after recovering from the initial shock, they helped Ryon to acquire his own little house out in the country. It wasn’t anything that elaborate and fabulous, but it did have enough needed for two possible people to reside. With the rest of the funding, they decided to take a trip around the world, something that they had wanted for quite some time. An allowance was still sent to him in the letters that they would write to him but, other than that, Ryon didn’t really have any other way of obtaining cash. He did have some money saved from the different contests that he had won, but he felt that he’d eventually need a steady income sooner or later.
“Eh, I’ll find something in the paper later. Right now, I need something else to do for the time being.”
He slouched down in the chair a bit, his tail listlessly moving back and forth across the floor. His attire was that of his usual set up: a short, black open vest and a pair of black shorts. His shoes were black, having brown trim along the bottoms; the trim matched his fur color with the exception of his abdomen, which was of a light orange hue. He sighed a bit, wondering if something eventful will take place soon.
Almost as if in response, a knock came from his door.
“Huh? Who could that be?”
As he rose from his seat, the knocking started again, louder and in short rhythmic beats.
“Never mind,” he said aloud, “I’m pretty sure I know who that is.”
Standing to the side a bit, he opened the door, having predicted that a familiar foot would be coming through. As he guessed, a sneaker came through the door, white with green trim, and landed inside. Along with this shoe came the rest of his friend, grinning mischievously.
“Heh, it took ya long enough to answer.”
“Oh yes, five seconds is ample time to respond to the impatience of someone like you.”
“And never forget that,” he responded, smiling as he came into the house, “Only you would’ve guessed that I’d do something like that.”
“One who knows Shryp must know the ways of Shryp.”
Shryp Rypson, a dog of black fur with a white stomach. He’s also the best friend of Ryon the both of them having known each other since they were both kids. Energetic and jovial, he was always the more comedic out of the two. He was pretty smart due to his upbringing, but he usually preferred to act before thinking, as he found it more fun to do so at times. He stood before his friend, dressed in his white T-Shirt and tan cargo pants, commenting on the previous remark.
“You always have to sound so philosophical at times, don’t you?”
“Whenever necessary; so, what brings you here today? And what’s with the box?”
Along with his usual attire of a white T-Shirt and tan cargo pants, Shryp also had a small box by his side.
“This,” Shryp responded, holding the box in front of him, “is something I need you to hold on to for a little while as we go over to my new place.”
“Wait, you have your own place now? What, your parents kicked you out or did you come up with this on your own?”
“Actually, it was earlier negotiated between us that, as someone who’s old enough to be independent, I should find my own domicile in which to dwell; they’ve done all that they can to prepare me for life without parental guidance, and I agree with them.”
“Uh huh…so, you were kicked out?”
“Yup.”
“Thought so.”
“So, you’re gonna help or not?”
“Of course; what kind of friend would I be if I wasn’t there for you? Besides, it was getting boring around here anyway.”
“Good,” Shryp said, shoving the box into Ryon’s hands, “Keep this with you at all times.”
Ryon gave a quick examination of the box: small and brown, about the size of a picnic basket. It wasn’t really heavy, but he could tell that it was pretty full. The box was secure, for the most part, with tape covering it.
“What’s in it?”
“Umm…nothing much, just a little something that I want you to hold on to, in case my parents tries questioning me about what I brought with me. Just act like it’s yours for a little while, and everything’ll be explained later,” Shryp grinned a bit as he finished his statement, “and, if you’re a good little mouse boy, there may be something in it for you.”
“Yeah…‘mouse boy’, huh…wait, in the box or a monetary reward?”
“Maybe both, it depends. You ready to go?”
“Sure.”
At that, they departed from Ryon’s home after he locked up. A brief curiosity came over him about the package, but he simply shrugged it off and went on with his friend.
…Later…
It had taken them from that morning to early afternoon, even with hired help, to move all of Shryp’s belongings into his new local. It was a considerably sized two-story structure, looking very much similar to classic hopes that one might see on a T.V. show. The house in general was mostly white, with green and black decorating certain areas of the abode. They stood out on the lawn, looking forth at the newly refurbished home.
“Interesting color scheme,” Ryon commented.
“What can I say? You know that black and green are my favorite colors.”
“Yeah, I know, but…still.”
“Well, at least everything got moved in alright.”
“And half of that stuff I’ve never seen before, and I’ve known you since we were kids.”
“Eh, it’s some extra things I picked up to make my place look better.”
With Shryp’s comment, they started walking back to the house.
“Your parents sure have given you a lot, haven’t they?”
“Yeah,” Shryp responded, “they have. I’m quite lucky to have ‘em, though; they like to make sure I’m well taken care of by giving me the simplicities that I might need.”
“You do realize that, if they could, they’d give you the sun on a candle and say you needed the extra light, right?”
“What can I say? They love me, and also want to make sure that the family line stays in tact.”
Shryp came from a long line of pedigreed purebreds. For the most part of his life, his family allowed him to live the way he wanted instead of forcing him into something else like they once were. Still, despite this, he still received certain treatments that came with such a past, which was why he was both well educated and knowledgeable in the Bo Staff and hand-to-hand combat.
“And yet,” Ryon commented, “ever since puberty, you’ve risked adding new generations to the line due to your liking for the pleasures of the female form.”
“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it, my friend; one day, when you overcome your shyness, you just might see the beauty behind such things.”
They entered the house and looked around at the hard work that had been done. All was arranged just how Shryp wanted it, and he gave Ryon the tour of the different areas of the house: a living room, kitchen, dining room, multiple bedrooms and bathrooms upstairs, a private study, and even a patio and pool in the back yard.
Indeed, Shryp was set quite nicely with the basics that he would need to get by.
“So,” Shryp started, returning to the front door, “What do you think of my new home?”
“It’s something else, I do admit; nicely done.”
Throughout the majority of the time there, Ryon had been keeping Shryp’s box in his possession. Noting that it was now just the two of them, he also took note of the box in Ryon’s possession.
“Oh yeah,” Shryp began, “you can hand over the box now. Nothing happened, no questions were asked, and I’ll now take back my belongings.”
Shryp reached out to take the box from Ryon, but Ryon drew back for a moment.
“And what types of belongings were so important that you didn’t want your parents to know about them?”
“Umm...well, it’s personal stuff. You know how my parents can be sometimes; they’re a little nosey. I didn’t want to deal with their curiosity on this, so I decided to give it to you to avoid that.”
Ryon grinned as he kept the box to his side.
“So, you’ve managed to avoid their curiosity, now it’s time to deal with my curiosity.”
“Ryon…”
“Come on, what’cha got in here?”
“I told you,” Shryp said, reaching for the box again, “personal items.”
“Like what? Come on, can I open it?”
“I already said that I might offer you something from there, so give it.”
“Maybe you can tell me first and then I’ll ask for something. Come on, between friends, what’s inside?”
“GIMMETHEDAMNBOX!”
Annoyed at the incessant actions of his friends, Shryp snatched the box away from Ryon. With the hold that Ryon had, though, he didn’t anticipate the destruction of the box itself. Each one held a half of the cardboard container as the contents spilled out into the air and onto the floor, Ryon’s question being answered: pornography. All day, Ryon had with him a box full of pornographic material. Tapes, DVDs, magazines, all with various puns on sexual innuendo, hit the ground. Even a lubricant, of which couldn’t be identified, hit the ground.
“What in the Hell is all of this?!” Ryon exclaimed.
“What do you think it is?!” Shryp answered, going to gather the spilled pornography, “Did you really think I wanted my parents to see me with all of this?”
“So you gave them to me in case they were discovered?!” Ryon questioned, helping him to pick up Shryp’s pornographic paraphernalia.
“They weren’t, were they? You wouldn’t be so stressed out right now if you had just…”
At that moment, Shryp’s door opened, as he didn’t lock it when they entered earlier.
Ryon watched as the dark red porcupine stood in the entranceway. Many things stood out as he viewed this unknown being: the black trench coat that he wore, the huge denim blue jeans that seemed to hang off of his skinny form, the three quills protruding from his head, the middle one larger than the other two on the sides of the being’s head.
Ryon stood slowly, Shryp’s porno in his hands. Shryp was still on the floor, gathering up what he could into his half of the ripped box that he had. He, too, looked up at the figure as he collected his belongings.
“You know,” the figure spoke, “I don’t know what perverted acts you’re up to, but people usually mess with that stuff that in private behind locked doors.”
“Well, if you had come earlier, maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess right now.”
“Firstly, I already told you that I’d come to help after I was done with my own plans. Besides, from the looks of things, it seems as though I came here just in time to stop you from really making a mess of things.”
“Umm…who are you?” Ryon interrupted.
Shryp answered, “This is Dryden. Dryden, this is my good buddy Ryon.”
Dryden looked Ryon over for a moment as he responded, “Yeah, I kind of assumed that much by what I saw just now.”
Realizing the situation, Ryon placed the porn he collected into the other half of the torn box, handing it over to Shryp.
“So,” Ryon started, how exactly do you know Shryp?”
“He helped me out a while ago,” Shryp responded for Dryden, “I’ll tell you about it as I put this stuff away.”
…A Few Weeks Earlier…
Shryp, just recently turning 18 the week before, decided to go out on the town, cash in hand as he searched the night streets. For the last longest, he had heard of a place that he wanted to visit for quite some time. Eventually, he arrived at his destination: Goblin’s Bar. The neon green sign flashed the bar’s name over its door, the entire place looking a bit run-down from the outside. Despite the initial impression of the bar’s outer looks, rumors that Shryp had heard told him otherwise about what was within.
Grinning slyly, he walked up and entered the bar, taking a view of the inside. It looked like the typical place where one could go to drink: pool tables throughout, a television above the counter, a jukebox in the corner a few tables, and a sign pointing to the bathroom towards the back of the place. Quite a few people were in the vicinity that night, confirming the rumors that Shryp had been hearing.
Shryp immediately went up to the counter to try a drink. Though, even with his knowledge of different champagnes and wines that his parents had, he didn’t know all that much about a drink that he could try. He was about to signal to the bartender, a skunk, about what to order, when he heard the order of someone two stools down from him.
“Scotch, one malt, no ice.”
Liking the sound of the drink, Shryp mimicked the order, “Scotch, one malt, no ice.”
The red porcupine figure gave Shryp a brief look as they both received their drinks. Shryp had no idea how to drink what was before him. Take a sip? Drink it smooth? Gulp it down? He looked over again to the porcupine for visual advice, noting that he finished his drink in one gulp. Lifting the glass, Shryp mimicked the actions of the porcupine again by drinking in one gulp. Almost instantly, his eyes went wide and bloodshot as he started coughing, holding his throat. After a few seconds he finally stopped, trying to ignore the glances that he was getting from everyone else at the counter and the slight chuckle coming from the porcupine.
Clearing his throat, which still burned slightly, he called to the bartender, “Hey, how much for the drink?” As he did so, he took out the money that he brought with him.
Maybe it was the attention that he attracted earlier from his inexperience with a hard drink. Maybe it was the smell that’s found in all money. Or maybe it was the fact that Shryp had pulled out a huge wad of cash from its holding that looked like a gigantic head of lettuce. Whatever the reason, everyone’s head in the bar turned as the money was brought into the open.
The ones who seemed to look the hardest were a small group near the pool table. These thugs, six in total, all wore the same attire: gray vests, gray boots, and white pants. At the glance of their leader, a white bear, they headed to the front of the bar; people within seemed to make a path for them as they went to the young pup. Everyone slowly started moving to the back of he bar, the only ones at the front being Shryp, the porcupine, and the bartender, who had backed away to the far end of the counter.
“Hey, Fido…,” called forth from one of the members behind him.
Shryp stopped counting his money for a second and took a glance behind him, the tallest of the group, their leader, being the one to make the comment.
“…I see that you have quite a bit of spare change on you. Mind if we ‘borrow’ some?”
Shryp went back to his money, pretending to count it. “Yeah, I would mind. But I wouldn’t mind it if you backed off and left me alone…”
Shryp then turned completely around in his stool to look at his soon-to-be adversaries: their bear leader, a tiger, a panther, and three wolves. He knew that his next comment would start trouble; to him, a visit to a bar wouldn’t be complete without a bar fight.
“…Of course, you really could use this money, seeing as you can’t afford decent threads to actually seem threatening. Ever thought about charity?”
The gang started cracking their knuckles, slight smiles appearing after seeing the arrogance of the kid before them. The bear looked to Shryp, a grin on his face as he responded.
“Yeah, that comes to mind…like right now. How about we assist you in a potential blood donation?”
With that, the bear moved from the front of his gang to the back.
“Guys, help him bleed.”
At those words, the five of them advanced on Shryp, the panther and tiger baring their claws as the three wolves each held a weapon.
“Heh, this’ll be too easy,” Shryp remarked tauntingly, “I’ve seen Kung-Fu movies that had tougher opponents than this.
The smallest member of the group, one of the wolves, was the first to reach Shryp. His weapon of choice: a pool stick. With little effort Shryp caught the stick that the wolf swung at him and, with a hold on it, kicked the wolf away, immediately acquiring the weapon.
“Like I said, too easy.” he commented, the rest of the gang members coming at him with their weapons and bare claws.
Shryp made sure to keep his back to the bar, which was the only available space that he had at the moment. The bear leader watched as his men each tried to gain the upper hand on the dog, guessing that the limited space would be to their advantage. With the pool stick circling the area around Shryp none of them could really get close, most of them jumping in with random swings, kicks, and punches as he deflected them away. Shryp himself was mostly playing around with them all, swinging to avoid attacks while poking anyone who got near with the tip of the stick. Due to his confidence, however, he didn’t see the small wolf come back for a surprise assault.
As Shryp played around, the wolf moved quickly toward the unsuspecting pooch and speared him right in the side, sending him straight to the ground and his only weapon spinning across the bar. Once he hit the ground every one of the gang members, except for the observing leader, jumped upon the canine and started to beat him senseless. Shryp could feel the pain of claws and an assortment of weapons rain down on his body. Suddenly, all but one of the members was thrown off of Shryp, the one remaining wolf looking up to see what had happened. As he looked, he received a kick to the face, sending him flying back with the rest of his crew. Shryp, looking up to see what had happened, saw the red porcupine standing over him, a calm yet stern look on his face.
“Stay out of this, pincushion!” the leader spoke up, “You can donate as well, but after we’ve drained him first.”
The porcupine didn’t even look at the bear, his eyes concentrating on the men that he just cleared away.
“Sorry,” he spoke, “but the only red you’ll get from me will be my quills in your ass. That is, however, after I deal with your lackeys.”
Leaping over Shryp, he landed a flying kick to the face of the panther, sending the feline flying into a wall and unconscious. The tiger tried a flurry of swipes to take off the porcupine’s head, one of the wolves coming around with a swing from his chain. Ducking the final swipe, he foot swept the tiger, causing him to land in the way of the chain swing from his fellow gang member. He rose quickly and, just as the tiger was rearing back from the hit, landed a roundhouse kick right to the cat’s head, sending him flying on top of the wolf.
One of the wolves, thinking he had the advantage, leapt at the porcupine’s side. He caught this assailant by the arm, though, and swung him right into another wolf attempting the same strategy. The leader of the gang, growing more and more irritated at seeing his crew get beaten by some ‘rodent’, sidestepped the wolf that was thrown at him, the creature in question getting sent into the back of the bar. During all of this, the bar was getting emptier by the moment. The patrons felt that, to avoid a headache not caused by a hangover, they should go ahead and leave.
The wolf that was floored earlier rose from underneath the unconscious tiger, grabbing the pool stick that had been long discarded. He took a swing at the red menace’s head, hoping to end the fight. Catching the stick, however, the porcupine simply kicked the wolf away, tossing the stick right at the canine’s head, knocking him out. After all of this, he finally looked to the leader of the group.
“Now, with them out of the way, would you like me to keep my promise about these quills?”
The bear charged at the porcupine, throwing a hard punch right at his face. Catching it, he wrenched the bear’s fist to the side, tightening his grip. Another fist came at his face, which he also caught and held on to. Yet again, the bear tried to land a hit by kicking at the menace before him. Easily, he shot his foot into the bear’s knee, sending him back into a kneeling position. It was then that he began to squeeze the bear’s fists.
“You think you can…wha’..aah…how the…AAHH…LET GO…AAAAAHHH!”
Shryp looked at what was going on, amazed to see smoke coming from the grip that the porcupine had on the leader of the gang. Allowing the cry of pain to continue for just a moment longer, he pulled the bear forward and landed a straight kick right to his face, letting go of the fists as he watched the leader go straight to the back of the bar, unconscious.
Shryp stood slowly, taking note that one of the wolves from earlier, the same one that tackled him earlier, was the only one left conscious. With a look of worry on his face, the small wolf fled from the scene, not wanting what the others had just gotten. Now, within the bar, it was only the porcupine, Shryp, five unconscious bodies, and the bartender, his mouth agape after seeing all of what happened.
“Man, this place really is quite popular, isn’t it?” the porcupine said, speaking to the bartender, “You’ve got all kinds of creatures coming here.”
Shryp’s forced a smile, still hurt a little, as he cautiously approached the porcupine.
“Umm…thanks for your help. I guess owe you one.”
The figure turned to face Shryp, “It’s Dryden, and I ought to beat the crap out of you for being dumb enough to bring that much money out in the open in a place like this.”
“The name's Shryp; this was the first bar that I ever went to…”
“Doesn’t matter, common sense should have told you that was a bad idea.”
As they started to leave, the skunk bartender spoke up, “Hey! How da ‘ell I’m gonna fix all dis?”
Shryp, grabbing the money that he used to cause all of this trouble, threw the wad to the bartender.
“That should cover the damages…and the drinks too.”
With that, the two left the bar, half of everything inside damaged with unconscious gang members on the floor and a happy skunk counting off the bills within the wad of cash.
…Present Day…
“…And that’s how I met him.” Shryp finished off his story of how he met Dryden. As the story was told, Shryp was not only able to put away his ‘pleasurable items’, but the three of them now sat around a table, poker cards passed out between them.
“Huh, so that’s how you got those marks on you,” Ryon commented, “and you sound as though you’re quite skilled in combat.”
“Yeah,” Dryden responded, “I’ve picked up a few things over the years…”
“Still,” Shryp started, “that thing with the smoke from your hands…what’s that all about?”
“In time,” Dryden replied, “You might find out.”
As he spoke, he pushed all of his chips into the center of the table. With the length of Shryp’s tale, they had managed to get in quite a few games already.
“Now, it’s all or nothing on this hand.”
“That’s fine by me,” Shryp stated, placing all of his chips into the center as well. Ryon did likewise, not having that many chips in his possession. At this, they began to do the final showing of hands.
“Alright Shryp,” Dryden started, “what’cha got?”
Shryp smiled slyly as he placed his cards on the table, “Full House, and I don’t mean the T.V. show!” He leaned back slightly in his chair, satisfied with the three 5s and two 4s that he had in his possession. Dryden looked down at his cards: a pair of 7s, an 8 of spades, a 3 of clubs, and a 5 of diamonds. He knew he was beaten.
“Well Dry, what’cha say to that?” Shryp taunted, practically placing his cards in Dryden’s face.
Dryden kept his eyes on his own cards as he raised his hand, grasping the top of Shryp’s cards ever so casually. Then, without warning, the cards started to turn black, from the top where Dryden was holding down to the bottoms where Shryp had them. As he leg to of the cards, a light bit of smoke came off of the standing ashes before they crumbled onto the table. Shryp looked at them in questionable awe as Dryden gave his response.
“No cards, no win; I guess you’re out of this one.”
Dryden then turned to Ryon, leaving Shryp to look dejectedly at the ashes that were once a winning hand.
“So, Ryon, what about you; what do you have?”
Ryon looked down at his hand: Straight Flush of Spades, Ace high. This was the second good hand that he had gotten in the entire time that they were playing, next to the four-of-a-kind from the beginning of the game. He looked between his hand and the ashes on the table, considering the possibility that this was now a Catch 22: fold or show, he didn’t think that he’d actually win this particular game.
Still, he felt that, in the least, he could save some cards from a burning fate.
“Umm…nothing. Bad hand. I fold.”
With this lie, his hand at least now remained intact, which was more than he could say for Shryp’s hand. He placed his cards face down on the table, smiling to Dryden.
“Nice, I win. I always like playing poker; it’s an enjoyable pastime.”
Standing from the table, Dryden made his way to the door.
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Ryon. And Shryp, we’ll get back together sometime later on.”
After he left, Ryon breathed a sigh of relief as he went and stood by Shryp’s side.
“You’ve got quite a way with making friends, don’t you?”
Having slid the ashes onto his hand, he looked at what he felt would have won him the game. Sighing, he blew the cards out of his hand, sending the ashes scattering across the table.
“Yeah, quite a way,” he replied, dusting his hands off, “shouldn’t you be leaving as well?”
“Yeah, I guess I’ll take my leave too,”
Leaving the cards and chips on the table, the two turned to leave, Shryp being the one to give Ryon a ride back home.
“Yeah,” Ryon commented, “life’s never dull whenever I hang around with you.”
“Life’s too short to be dull; take your chances whenever you can, and you’ll be happier for it. It worked out for me.”
“So it has, and I’m sure that financial security, an upper class family, and me helping you to get out of trouble from time to time also has something to do with it.”
“See? There’s never a dull moment with me around.”
“I’ll say.”
The two departed from the new home that night, the completion of another day before them and the rise of Ryon’s knowledge in the way that life offers itself to them.
The End
