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Undertow	By : pronker Category: +M through R > Penguins of Madagascar Views: 11341 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I make no profit from this fanfiction set in Dreamworks' Penguins of Madagascar franchise. I do not own its characters, basic premise or settings.

Chapter List
- 1-1/?
- 2-2/?
- 3-3/?
- 4-4/?
- 5-5/?
- 6-6/?
- 7-7/?
- 8-8/?
- 9-9/?
- 10-10/?
- 11-11/?
- 12-12/?
- 13-13/?
- 14-14/?
- 15-15/?
- 16-16/?
- 17-17/?
- 18-18/?
- 19-19/?
- 20-20/?
- 21-21/?
- 22-22/?
- 23-23/?
- 24-24/?
- 25-25/?
- 26-26/?
- 27-27/?
- 28-28/?
- 29-29/?
- 30-30/?
- 31-31/?
- 32-32/?
- 33-33/?
- 34-34/?
- 35-35/?
- 36-36/?
- 37-37/?
- 38-38/?
- 39-39/?
- 40-40/?
- 41-41/?
- 42-42/?
- 43-43/?
- 44-44/?
- 45-45/?
- 46-46/?
- 47-47/?
- 48-48/?
- 49-49/?
- 50-50/?
- 51-51/?
- 52-52/?
- 53-53/?
- 54-54/?
- 55-55/?
- 56-56/?
- 57-57/?
- 58-58/?
- 59-59/?
- 60-60/?
- 61-61/?
- 62-62/?
- 63-63/?
- 64-64/?
- 65-65/?
- 66-66/?
- 67-67/?
- 68-68/?
- 69-69/?
- 70-70/?
- 71-71/?
- 72-72/?
- 73-73/?
- 74-74/?
- 75-75/?
- 76-76/?
- 77-77/?
- 78-78/?
- 79-79/?
- 80-80/?
- 81-81/?
- 82-82/?
- 83-83/?
- 84-84/?
- 85-85/?
- 86-86/?
- 87-87/?
- 88-88/?
- 89-89/?
- 90-90/?
- 91-91/?
- 92-92/?
- 93-93/?
- 94-94/?
- 95-95/?
- 96-96/?
- 97-97/?
- 98-97/?
- 99-99/?
- 100-100/?
- 101-101/?
- 102-102/?
- 103-103/?
- 104-104/?
- 105-105/?
- 106-106/?
- 107-107/?
- 108-108/?
- 109-109/?
- 110-110/112
- 111-111/112
- 112-112/112
- 47
- 48
- 49
In a split second, Frances visualized what Chango could do, but would he? She rose on her toes and shouted, "Chango obá adé oko, obá ina, Alafin Oyó aché o!"
The spark changed character into a ray, a death ray Frances hoped, as it did something very strange. It struck the waters rippling from the ceiling that warped the laser lights' emission. The ray flared upwards to exit the stream. After that, it was anyone's guess where it would land, because it ricocheted among the stalactites as it found one facet of the crystals after the other. Frances thought of a funhouse mirror she had played with at age eight because the reflection was not her true self at all, at least as much as a reflection could be true. She growled as a downward angled facet made it hit the black back not of the instigator of her Penguin Makeover but the smaller penguin.
An anguished animal cry split the darkness. Frances saw her nemesis hold his ground, wearing a distressed face, and she made to tear off after him to stomp him into oblivion. No matter that he possessed martial arts skills! No matter that she would never fathom how or why he and his friend wound up underground! He would be roadkill and she would be gratified. "I'll get you, my pretty, and your little friend, too!"
Moley's arms trapped her and her feet left the ground. "Moley! What are you doing! This is the penguin that ruined my life!" She kicked his ankles and bit what she could reach of the granite-like arm. He squeezed hard enough to make her see spots. "Let me go!"
Moley hauled her further up the telescoping ramp and grunted again when she delivered a reverse gorbals kiss, the back of her skull snapping into his face. With one arm he contained her, with the other he stabbed the hatch control just inside the coaming. As the ramp retracted and the hatch juddered its way closed, he scrambled into the Mrsdm with her still kicking his shins. "Bullt!" he roared in the direction of the controls and the mecha shuddered into action, reversing its course as it backed into the tunnel it had created minutes before.
"Aaaaggh! You had no right to do that! No right!" she screeched and stomped her boots as he set her down. He raised his hand and she flinched, but he was only swiping away blood from a split lip. The sight of red drips percolated through to Frances' psyche as Chango retreated.
"You - I - we - I didn't mean to hurt - I apologize - "
"Gzky!" he shouted to the controls and the angle of declension shifted to neutral so that Frances swayed on her feet in the impression of moving forward as the mecha leveled out. She could tell he was restraining any outbursts until their situation settled. She admired delayed gratification in any human or near-human as much as she admired immediate declaration of emotions. "Frawnces get red box." He pointed to the larger of two boxes.
She dug beneath the dash to retrieve a red box the same shade as his blood. The color of his blood resembled the dark strawberry shade of the box, a tinge away from fully human color. "Here, sit and I'll fix you up." He planted his twill trousers firmly in the driver seat and swiveled it to face her. She stepped between his spread thighs and went to work, not meeting his gaze.
She concentrated on swiping away blood with pledgets and daubed a white liquid onto the split.
He hissed, hurt and angry.
She dropped to her knees at his feet, intending to swipe the white liquid on the scratches, but he gestured curtly to stop.
He clenched his fists.
She bent to replace the red box under the dash and flinched again when she saw where she had barked the tops of his feet and toes. She straightened up, unafraid.
He was her drzhp. He would not hurt her.
"Moley, I said I was sorry." The task complete, she crossed her arms and turned away. He stood and even though she was taller, she felt his kingly presence loom in the eleven by fourteen cabin until it pressed against her. This was his vehicle, he had carted her here at her insistence, and had walked into her life when everyone else had walked out of it. Had she messed up their friendship?
She could tell he was still upset because the question came through clenched teeth. "Frawnces lultm today. Why?"
She snorted, still cranky, still shaking. "If you mean madder than a wet blue hen, yes well I'll tell you why. That bird did a number on my whole life, Moley, with its Penguin Makeover." Her breath hitched. "I didn't want my life made over! I liked it as it was! But nooooo, it blew up my whole neat plan for a clean zoo and, and I got fired from a job I loved, and and - "
"Met me."
"Er, well yes, we'd never have met if - don't get your feelings hurt - "
"If Frawnces says so, it must be so."
"Now cut that out! I don't know everything - "
"Yphnk."
"Ozzlr."
"Frawnces know whash yphnk means?"
"I've been taking notes on your language. Yes, I understand that term."
"Oh, dbltm."
"Don't be rude." Moley withdrew his hand when Frances ducked back from an idle fondle of her blonde glory. "And stop petting me when I'm not in the mood."
"Frawnces spunky. I like."
Speaking of mood, somehow the mood shifted to Relationship Mode and Frances found she was ready to think of herself and Moley together-together. What a compelling future they would share, sort of like, um, like - well, she couldn't put a name on it. None of the animals in Hoboken Zoo had a similar one, at least in her experience. As for humans, maybe she and he would be the first to share an almost-human to human pairing, outside of fictional couples like Superman and Lois Lane?
On her first visit to his kingdom, she'd smiled and waved at his harem of six, which status seemed to require them draping themselves in gauzy veils. They had spoken no English, smiled readily enough, and deferred to Moley in a fashion she had never observed in her friends who were in relationships. She supposed it compared to Middle East customs of a certain antiquity or even today. The logistics of him visiting her home on a now and again basis appealed much more than her joining his kingdom. Where had he come from, how had he become King of the Mole Men, and who would be king after he died? How old was he, anyway?
He allowed the Mrsdm another ten minutes of autopilot and then took over. They rode in silence for a timeless time until Frances' mind drifted to practicalities of a man and woman getting together-together, which she'd never done all the way. She swallowed hard and crossed her legs as the mecha rumbled along, the uneven synchronization of its blades gradually fading from her consciousness.
She'd stopped trembling from her emotional Armageddon and what was left was calm reflection on what could happen next in her life, oh beyond continuing to develop Funkytown, schmooze at Santeria gatherings after the more serious religious events took place, and enjoying the company of Dexter and his nice family. Now that she came to think about it, it was time to have something just for herself on a personal level. She floated to a memory that she had not accessed in quite a while.
Mom's reserve and clipped tones made The Talk a businesslike process when Frances turned fourteen. Frances still recalled her mother's parting words. "When the gentleman makes his entrance, breathe out. Do not expect to like sex straightaway. You will, in time."
A slow smile, a hand pat, and The Talk was over. When Frances compared notes with her friends at Yale, she remained pleased with Mom's parenting. When a jolt and grinding sound reminded her that not was all right with their transport, she jerked her attention to the present.
So. Now what? The Mrsdm clanked. She stole a look at her companion. Moley sat stiffly in the driver's seat, wide lips compressed. The split one looked sore. "Drzhp," Frances murmured, "thank you for pulling me inside and, and back from doing a regrettable thing."
Moley looked miffed as he squinted his near-sighted eyes, well, near-sighted in Frances' regular light, because in pitch blackness, he ruled his world and her when she was in it. Where on or under the earth had his goggles gotten to? She hadn't seen them since his visit to his convention of fellow alphas, the one with his friend, the strange dolphin who perhaps was not so friendly.
"Don't pout, Moley."
"Not."
"Yes, you - "
"Frawnces scare me!" he bellowed.
She shrank back. "I'm sorry to have done that - "
"Lose Frawnces! Lose drzhp!"
"You haven't, I'm here. I'm not leaving."
His grip clenched on the tiller, his bare foot pressed harder on the accelerator. The tunneler's velocity increased enough to shiver its metal timbers as they left Howe Caverns behind.
"Can we talk about this?"
"Dbltm! No!" And so it went for what Frances estimated one hundred miles as she contemplated the mystique of the male principle. If this had been a regular relationship, she could demand to be let out and take an Uber ride home. She spent thirty of the one hundred miles herself pouting that their mode of transportation stymied a dramatic exit.
They must have been fifty miles outside Manhattan before he calmed; she could tell because his shoulders lost their hunch as much as they ever would. By that time, the whirling blade clanked and the unnamed sheen of protection over the pollucite flared and then receded alarmingly on the damaged portion. She stewed about it, and she kept watch on it through the front viewport. Another three miles passed.
Frances at last had to say something. "Moley, put aside whatever you're going through and tell me we're going to be okay."
"Agnaz."
"I mean both for us and for the Mrsdm. Tell me, Moley."
He rumbled so deeply that Frances swore she saw his chest vibrate through the blood-spattered muslin shirt. "I didn't catch that."
"Yes, Frawnces." A squeal came from the problematical blade and the Mrsdm stopped. Frances peered through the side viewing port as the tunneler's lights flashed outward. No walls or ceiling came in sight to offer glittery scenes to distract and edify. Frances reminded herself that Olorun was everywhere, as everlasting as Brownian motion.
"We're in a big space." Moley didn't answer as he delved for the toolbox under the dash. He opened the hatch and climbed out. Thirty seconds later, a bang, slplskhgrg and a rising whine issued into damp underground air.
Frances whooshed out a breath as she settled to await progress reports. The smaller toolbox indicated good news, because him fetching the larger one behind their seats would mean a larger problem. What if he couldn't fix the issue? What if she and he got stranded down here? Not all hollows in the earth opened to the outside. They would wander endlessly on foot until they collapsed, Funkytown would decay into Ghostytown, and Godmother Felicity would consult with a babalawo or iyalawo to divine their fate. Moley's harem would pine for him and holy crow, she'd never asked him if he had children! Frances squirmed to get comfortable on the no-frills seat cushion.
All will be for nothing, because our two Team Rocket skeletons will add calcium to the minerals of the earth in Ogún's realm - is this comeuppance what Oyá meant about me discovering my limitations - if we wander over sharp formations then Moley's lack of shoes might hurt him - he has moves I've never seen on any human dance floor and had removed his shoes to show me the cutest trick using both pinky toes - our rhythm together does not require music - I pulled on my boots as we leaped into the Mrsdm when Moley polished off the red wine and hollered "I teach Frawnces to drive!" - Plan B is worse than death, now that I think about it - the penguins will be made over in the most basic way possible well okay one will - Frances, you are a predator, girl, Oshosi has nothing on you - ow my behind aches where he smashed me into the ramp - what is keeping him -
Moley poked his head between the chassis of the tunneler and the ramp. His face was blank. "Frawnces come help."
"Huh? Oh, sure."
Standing by the blade under an umbrella-shaped trouble light, she saw that he had turned off the whatever-it-was shiny power source that coated the pollucite on all blades. She was careful not to touch any surface of any blade. If he turned it off, then the pollucite containing reactive rubidium was bare to any moisture in the air, from her skin, from errant drips from above. Did the enormous expanse of this cave preclude any humid drops or drips? What skills did he have, what tech did he employ to disable the hmdo from its explosive, power-generating quality so he could repair a vital blade?
Moley wove his massive shoulders through the blades without looking whether he would touch them or not. He measured the troublesome one with what she assumed to be a version of an ohmmeter, then took a reading off a compass, and finally brought out a length of glowing string. "Frawnces stand at pointy end to hold zort."
She took the end of the string between finger and thumb, making sure not to let it actually touch the tip of the blade. He took the other end, placing it under his lumpy middle finger atop the housing where the ten foot blade joined the chassis. "Whash zort say?"
She leaned over it. "I don't hear anything."
He dropped his end of the string, laughing fit to be tied as he slapped his thighs. "Frawnces funny!" He picked it up again and nodded at her to try once more.
Just like that, she knew that she and he could continue as friends, drzhps, and maybe something more in time. "You, you smartapple. All right, all right, I'm big enough to be the butt of a joke. Let me see."
The string glowed eerily, all except for three stylized numerical figures near her pinky. She hoped she interpreted the curlicues correctly. "Eight nine three."
"Cmloop!"
"If you say so."
"Frawnces, two ko and we go!" He boosted her into the air and spun her as if she were a child. Her skirts flared as her bracelets rattled.
Ko were, um ... minutes? Hours? Days? She didn't know, she didn't care, and hey, it might be fun to learn more of Ogún's world. She would have firsthand news to share with her godfamily.
Frances laughed as she braced her hands on Moley's shoulders while her legs clipped his waist. Life underground, above ground, or in the spirit world was good and getting better.
IOIOIOIOIO
- 47
- 48
- 49
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Undertow