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FEStival Fiasco

Part 3 So Long, Space Cowboy

Alcor was an elite by name alone. Throughout the semester, he has failed to score higher than any of his classmates in all exams and assignments. Rumors flew about the academy of the first elite to flunk entirely, but Centaurus paid them, and Alcor, little mind. While Alcor’s haughty and elitist attitude certainly annoyed Centaurus, he did not face any physical or verbal threats from Alcor.

At most, Centaurus overheard Alcor say, "Bested by a female and worm of all things!" to himself when he believes no one could hear. If he did not go spend at least a few minutes every session of class saying, “I remember my father graduated with top honors at this academy,” and, “I believe I covered this subject with my private tutors,” he would’ve certainly faced the same scrutiny and violence that Zathina inflicted on Centaurus.

Because of that, Centaurus paid him no mind and Alcor did the same. Oddly, Centaurus got along best with Alcor, as there was never a day either of them ever fought or competed against each other.

Too good to speak to a worm? Centaurus idly thought as he strolled through the festival grounds. Stalls full of brightly-colored games such as ring toss and whack-a-mole gathered crowds while the scent of fatty, sweet, and salty snacks gathered their money. Centaurus smiled as he walked by and took in the sights of the people making memories with each other. Couldn’t hurt to indulge every once in a while, right?

He walked to a booth with just another player on the opposite side and paid to play a game. “So just gotta pop three balloons with these here darts?” he asked the booth’s owner, who nodded. “Gotcha, I’ll—“

“Unbelievable, this game is clearly rigged!” A haughty voice cut him off. The other player sneered at the booth’s owner—who now sported an exhausted look—and held his hand out. “Either you give me more darts to attempt this ridiculous game or you give me my money back, peasant.”

His vernacular was certainly similar to Alcor’s, but Centaurus remained silent to allow more slips of the tongue.

"Sir, this is your second warning," the booth owner replied with a monotone voice. "Another outburst like that and I’ll have to call security on you. You lost fair and square, and, frankly, I have no clue how to rig this game against you.” She glanced back and forth between the darts in Centaurus’ hand and the balloon on the opposite wall with a dumbfounded expression. “Seriously, none. The problem is your aim.”

“How dare you?” the haughty man said, teeth gritted at the poor girl. “My position is certainly above yours, peasant.” The booth owner narrowed her eyes, and Centaurus could tell she was ready to start beating the sucker to the ground.

“Now now, no need to have that kinda attitude," Centaurus cut in, hands raised in a peaceful gesture. It wasn't as if he had wanted to perform an altruistic task for the poor booth owner, but he did want to satiate his curiosity. “Hold on there, partner. Let’s try ‘n’ take it one step at a time. Now, the name’s Austin. Yours?”

“Hmph! Well, it’s rude to decline another’s request for your name after they offer their own. Fine, then. You may call me Milo. Milo Palmer. And you?” Milo cocked an eyebrow as he looked me up and down. “You… you dress very peculiarly.”

How often did a person, regardless of how sheltered they were, not recognize a cowboy? Not just that, but the attitude was familiar to Centaurus. All of it screamed ‘Mizar.’ However, Centaurus decided to play along. “I’m a cowboy, partner.”

“I’m not your partner.”

“And I wanna propose a li’l wager for ya.”

Centaurus internally grinned as he saw the glint in Milo’s eyes at the word. Mizar or not, it was clear that the one in front of him highly valued competition. “What sort of wager are you walking about, cowboy?”

“Austin. And we play a few rounds over here. If I win, we leave the booth peacefully. You win, then you can say that you’re certainly much better than these ‘plebians,’ as I’m assuming yer ‘bout to start callin’ them.”

Milo shook his head. “No no, I demand a much better reward than that.” With a smug, high-born smirk, Milo said, “Become my slave for the rest of the festival, and then I’ll agree to your terms, cowman.”

“Cowboy,” Centaurus said, rolling his eyes. “Well, don’t mind ‘em terms. I ain’t afraid of losin’.” Passing the booth owner, who now had gratitude in her eyes, some dollars, Centaurus asked for two sets of darts.

“Let’s rock.”

“Let us duel.”

To Centaurus’ relief, Austin was particularly talented in darts. Years of playing drunk and just barely avoiding poking someone’s eye out helped out quite a bit in this bet. In just a few minutes, all of his balloons were nothing but scraps of plastic on the ground while Milo failed to hit a single one. “Well, that prove it t’ya?”

At first, Milo didn’t say anything. He simply stared down at the ground, hands trembling. While the booth owner threw out an excuse to temporarily leave, Centaurus lightly tapped Milo’s shoulder. “D-Don’t touch me, cowman!” he shouted as he jumped back. “Don’t think you’ve beaten me simply because this game is fixed.”

With a bemused click of his tongue, Centaurus smirked and said, “So y’ain’t bad, the game is?”

“Well… the way I said it is certainly much more eloquent, but the general idea is certainly there." Thankfully, Milo chuckled at that. "But! I cannot allow this stain on my honor to continue. Please, let us continue with more duels at this festival. Surely I will be able to best you at all the others."

Again, Centaurus laughed. “If ya wanna keep playin’, just say so, Milo-man. I don’t mind.” By now, he didn’t doubt that it was indeed Alcor before him. The attitude and lack of social cues that only an elite with a silver spoon up his ass certainly fit. However, while being someone else, this was the first time Centaurus had ever had a decent conversation with him. “C’mon, let’s see what else we can play.” Once they were done fooling around, he was certain he could pull off the same trick as Mizar and eliminate him from the competition.

However, several games in, Centaurus found himself lost in the joy of the festival. “Watch this shit!” he cried out as he raised the mallet and slammed it onto the target. The bell rang, signaling his strength. “Hell yeah!” Making sure that Alcor was watching, he flexed both of his biceps. Alcor sneered.

Later on, during a large jigsaw event, Centaurus gritted his teeth as he tried to form the picture in his head. For whatever reason, Austin was just particularly challenged in putting the oversized puzzle pieces together. The colors and shapes just didn’t seem to match. That was one of the pitfalls of the way Centaurus took over hosts. Strengths and weaknesses all carried over to him. However, once he finally put it all together, he rose from his seat proclaiming, “Done!”

“Finally,” Alcor said, clutching two different prizes with a self-satisfied smirk. “I have my own areas of expertise, I’ll have you know,” said Alcor. For the first time since Centaurus had met the guy, Alcor truly did deserve that arrogant air. By the time they had finished most of the booths in the area, they were tied in wins.

“Goddamn. Yer a tough nut to crack,” said Centaurus while the two rested at a bench. For all their running around and eagerness to show off, the men now sat down, panting heavily as the summer heat bore down on them.

“And—ha—you—haaa—are certainly no mere cowman either,” said Alcor in between his heavy pants as well. “I have to admit, I sincerely thought that his whole festival was full of nonsense and clowns earlier, but now...”

“Now…?”

Chuckling, Alcor finished with, “Now I know it also has handsome yet foolish cowmen as well.” While Centaurus pouted, he added, “I had fun. Thanks, Austin.”

“Can’t deny it. I had a fun time too.”

They stared ahead in a comfortable silence—just gazing at the people passing by. The day was far from over, but Centaurus felt more tired than he ever had on this planet. However, it was a satisfying exhaustion. Like he had accomplished far more than his goal. “Hey—“

“Do you mind if we go to that booth next?” Alcor cut in, pointing ahead. Centaurus followed his finger and saw a cartoonist drawing exaggerated portraits of people. “I would like to see his rendition of you.”

Shrugging, Centaurus said, “Sure.”

After about 20 minutes, Alcor glared down at the drawing. The inking and proportions were certainly ridiculous, but Centaurus truly knew nothing about art. Austin knew even less. However, from Alcor’s reaction, Centaurus was honestly starting to believe that something was off about the illustration. “Hmm...” Alcor hummed, his brow furrowed in thought.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“Yes, there is,” snapped Alcor. “Follow me.” The whole walk Centaurus continued to prod and pester to understand what the hell Alcor’s problem was, but no dice. Only once they arrived at a nice, flat table did Alcor finally explain. “The drawing is inadequate.”

“Whu-?”

"Sit. Let me draw you." Producing a pencil from who-knows-where, Alcor began to doodle. Centaurus, not having a reason to deny the request, obliged. The two shared a few words, but Centaurus mainly focused on keeping still. He wasn't sure what he would gain from indulging in Alcor like this, but he did wish to satiate his curiosity. What exactly was he planning…? Unlike Centaurus, Alcor and the rest of his classmates rarely opened up to their host's mind as he did. They shouldn't have access to many skills or talents, and certainly nothing as delicate as art. Was Alcor simply like this?

After a while, Alcor finally announced, “Finished. Here you go, cowman. Tell me what you think.”

There was no arrogance in Alcor’s voice, and no lack of talent in his drawing, either. Centaurus stared at the man—at Austin—in silent awe. A lump of guilt built up in his throat and his eyes grew moist. Austin’s kind yet cocky smile, his warm eyes, and his powerful physique all translated well into the sheet he held in his hands. “Yer… somethin’ else… This is amazin’.”

“I appreciate it, Austin,” said Alcor. “I’ve wanted to be an artist since… since I can remember.” His voice was far away, as if he was caught in a dream. “The aesthetic, the beauty of the world… I’ve always loved it all. I worked hard, in secret. But that dream will remain unfulfilled.”

“Why? Ya got the talent, the skill. Ya got the drive, dontcha?”

“That’s not what I meant, cowman.” Alcor rolled his eyes. “It is not as simple as becoming an artist simply because I wish to. I have… responsibilities. I am an elite, remember?”

“With how often you repeated it, how could I forget?”

Coughing to hide the embarrassment, Alcor continued. “Because of my status, my family expects great things from me. Extremely great things, but I do not.” He furrowed his brow before frowning in thought. “No, my apologies. Allow me to rephrase that. My family expects me to obtain a certain position after graduating from my academy with flying colors, but if I’m being honest, such a thing disgusts me," he said, wrinkling his nose. "In the end, as the firstborn male, I am nothing more than a puppet for the position, just as my friend had become."

“Yer friend?”

Alcor sighed, smiling almost nostalgically as he spoke about his past. “She was a delicate flower. Gentle, kind, intelligent. We often played together when we were young. But, that never lasted. We became separated after a while. Recently, at the academy, I met her again, but she was completely different.” Lips curled up in a tight frown, stared up at the sky with a frustrated groan. “She barely even acknowledges my presence. It’s as though she became a completely different person. When I tried to ask her about that...” Fear appeared in his eyes, “she threatened me with physical violence. And there was clear power behind it as well. Nothing at all like the gentle flower I once knew.

Centaurus let out a grunt to indicate he was listening. The girl from Alcor’s past seemed like the exact opposite of Zathina, but there was no doubt that they were the same person. More surprising was how little shock Centaurus actually experienced. It made sense for a female elite to begin her life with little knowledge of violence or the drive to be a soldier, but then what changed? What caused Zathina to become like this?

“If I continue the path I am on, then my freedom will be stripped away from me,” continued Alcor. “Of course,” he added with a chuckle, “that’s ignoring the fact that I’m absolutely not fit for the position my family wants from me in the first place.” Centaurus did not join in. Instead, he gripped Alcor’s hand and squeezed it to both of their surprises.

“A-Ah...” Voice cracking for just the tiniest moment, Alcor said, “I appreciate you not laughing, and for listening. To be honest, this is the first time I’ve said any of this out loud.”

“Yer lookin’ a li’l bit more relaxed. Shoulders less stiff. Stick must’ve fallen outta yer ass when ya started talkin’.”

“Ha ha,” Alcor rolled his eyes and playfully slapped Centaurus’ arm with his free hand. “Shut up, cowman. Let me be as melodramatic as I wish to be.”

“So yer gonna run away? How?”

“I am not sure yet, but I am determined to try. Even if I am taken away and executed, I still want to try.” Alcor said those words, but he didn’t hide the way his hands trembled. “I want to find a way to draw the universe’s beauty. If I can’t draw and paint, then I might as well not even be alive.”

Centaurus looked back at the drawing Alcor made of them. There was an undeniable amount of skill demonstrated in such short time. A familiar emotion welled up inside of him. Envy. Once more, Centaurus was drowning in envy. Not just for Alcor's skill, but also the path he wanted to choose for himself.

However, as much as Centaurus wished to scream and shout, he found himself unable to. It should have been easy, to crush Alcor's dream by seducing him in such a way as to gain an advantage, but Centaurus wasn’t able to do anything. Thousands of scenarios played in his head, and all of them ended in his favor.

However, Centaurus instead said, “I’ll help you.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll help ya escape this hellhole of a future yer in,” Centaurus proclaimed. He extended his hand out for Alcor to shake. “To be honest, it'd be a shame if a skill like yours remains unfulfilled. And also, it’s the least he could do fer a dear friend.”

“Dear friend?” Alcor asked, raising an eyebrow. “You hardly know me.”

Centaurus shrugged. “What can I say? Kindred spirits, I guess,” he said, grinning at his very first friend. Though Alcor truly had no idea, Centaurus knew, and that was all that mattered. "Listen, lemme tell ya the plan." He leaned over and whispered a hazardous mess hastily cobbled together, but it was all Centaurus could do on such short notice and a person he needed to protect. Overall, it wasn't very complicated, but so much hinged on everything going exactly right.

It was a gamble, but Centaurus figured that, as long as he was in Austin’s body, he didn’t mind becoming the cowboy that rode off into the sunset with his ally just like in the films. Now all he had to do was avoiding perishing before his plan began.

“Yer a cutie,” Centaurus whispered to the man, licking off the last remains of cum. The man shivered in pleasure. “C’mon, let me give ya a taste of yer own milk.” Eager for more, the man swiftly dove into a kiss only to get a mouthful of alien. While Austin’s body remained crouched on the bathroom floor, the other man fell back. He struck the stall’s wall as his body convulsed and soon lost control of his body.

Centaurus shook the exhaustion away. "All right, one more," he said to his former body. His heart ached as he looked down at Austin again. The memories of his kindness nearly caused him to choke, but Centaurus swallowed down the guilt. There were more important things in front of him. “I’m sorry,” he said to Austin.

The two left the stall just in time to see another man exit the stall next door. Time was limited, so Centaurus and the mind-controlled Austin quickly jumped the man, covering his mouth to prevent him from screaming.

Austin and three bodies. That was the minimum that Centaurus would have to work before the chaos began. Not needing to fully dive and dissect the memories of the two men, Centaurus slithered back into Austin and began to put his plan into action.

While he worked to grab Austin’s motorcycle and park it on the outskirts of the festival, his two victims would set off the pieces. The three of them left at different times to not arouse suspicion. All of this just to fool their professor and their classmates.

At the very epicenter of both the festival and the crowd, Centaurus kept an eye out. It had only been a few minutes, so the venom’s effect should hold. Once a voice shouted, “What the fuck, man?!” he grinned and turned to walk away. Another rang out, saying, "I'll teach you to disobey me, worm!" with a tone that sounded just like Zathina. Might as well throw some bait in her general direction.

A few yells went out as a brawl began. With any luck, a small riot should snowball from the two bodies engaging in a fistfight. Through his peripheral vision, Centaurus saw numerous folk turn their heads to stare at the spectacle that unfolded before them.

Perfect, he thought. All Alcor needed was a spectacle to last for a few minutes. Of course, another body would make the situation ideal if Centaurus’ instincts were right.

There was a man on his own near the outskirts of the festival grounds. He stood on his toes as he tried to get a closer look at whatever the attendants were crowding around. Suspecting nothing, he approached Centaurus and asked, “Hey man, what’s going on over there?”

“Hmm? Oh, well… lemme show ya real quick," Centaurus grinned at the man. "C'mere. Don't wanna say it too loudly." Brow furrowed, the man hesitated before leaning in slightly. That was all Centaurus needed. Already, venom spread throughout Austin's system, mixing into the spinal fluid. He opened Austin's mouth and shot into the other's man's mouth as Austin held him close.

“HMPH! MMMPH!” Centaurus’ body strangled any of the man’s startled cries. He quickly slithered through the man and bit down on his brain. The man convulsed as he struggled to vomit the bug out but remained in place as Austin put him into a tight embrace.

“Calm down, li’l fella,” Austin whispered as the Centaurus took control. “I gotcha.”

Once the man’s limbs and core warmed under Centaurus’ influence, he nearly fell over. “F-Fuck, the fuck...” he gasped. A cold and hollow sensation spread washed over his new body. He could still feel the man’s body under his control, but alongside it was something completely foreign.

“Y’okay?”

“N-No, but that doesn’t matter right now,” Centaurus replied. “Can barely walk… y’know where to leave me.” Austin nodded and half-carried half-dragged Centaurus alongside him.

As Centaurus allowed himself to be carried, the sounds of police sirens echoed in the air. Security got involved and now the police were here to arrest those caught up in his little distraction. Despite the nausea that threatened to make him vomit, Centaurus couldn’t help but grin at how successful his plan was. The sirens would help mask the sound of Austin’s motorcycle run down the street.

“Tell me something, Austin,” said Centaurus. Was he feverish or just plainly ill? He couldn’t tell anymore. A numbing feeling spread throughout his borrowed body. He could no longer feel his fingertips. “I’m doing something good, aren’t I?”

“I think so.”

“Do you really?”

“Dunno. You tell me. I’m fully under yer control.”

“When’d you get so sassy?”

Austin shrugged. “Hard to say, maybe the venom’s startin’ to run its course. Still, what yer doin’… it ain’t wrong, but yer not doin’ it just cause you felt sorry for this friend o’ yours.”

Centaurus glared at the ground but didn’t respond.

“Not gonna go with him?” Austin asked. “Ya really wanna, dontcha? Leave everythin’ behind and run. Like the cowboys ‘n ‘em westerns ya love.”

Every bit of Centaurus wanted to shout, “Of course I will!” However, he remained silent. No matter how much his heart wished to cry out for the world to hear, he silenced himself and simply thought his plans over. After Alcor and Mizar, he would need to take down Arcturus, Merak, and Zathina will be last. Then, Centaurus could finally win. Victory was just a few hours away.

Centaurus vomited as Austin set him down. Centaurus now rested against a building housing more bathrooms for the festival-goers. Around the corner was the parking lot where Austin's motorcycle was already in place. Centaurus didn't doubt that Alcor had already arrived. “G-Get in position,” he said, gagging at the taste. “Y’know he’s waiting for you. Get.”

Austin hesitated for only a moment before nodding. The little venom Centaurus could afford to inject into him was no doubt at its limit. However, it only needed to last for another few seconds; but it would only be worth it if his gamble paid off. As Austin disappeared from view, Centaurus leaned back and shut his eyes. The numbness was deeply uncomfortable but soothing at the same time. Perhaps if he gave it his best shot, he could simply pretend as though he was merely floating through space on a ship.

“Such a dumbass,” Centaurus whispered to himself. “Wasting so much venom… 4 hosts in just ten minutes? Stupid dumbass...”

Austin’s cries were loud enough that Centaurus could hear them from so far away. However, he smiled. Alcor was so unsubtle and so unfit to be a Dreadfighter. It only furthered Centaurus’ resolve that what he was doing was right.

Then why the hell do I feel so shitty?

The roar of a motorcycle soon echoed down the road. Centaurus couldn’t see it. Even as he opened his eyes, he found his vision impaired. The world was nothing but blotches and mystifying shapes that all blended together. As expected, the sirens helped mask it. To the festival-goers who stood by the violence and police, it might as well have been a kitten’s purr.

“There you go, Alcor,” said Centaurus to nobody but himself. “Follow that dream of yours. Don’t look back at this worm...”

Austin—or was it Centaurus himself?—completely read him. The desire to run, to ride off into the sunset with his friend in tow, was tempting beyond belief. However, Centaurus knew that he could never do anything like that.

“All this worm can do is look upwards, Alcor,” he continued to chide himself. “I don’t… I don’t have anything inside of myself. No talent, no skill… I don’t have anything but this dream.” Without the idea of becoming a Dreadfighter, without that hunger for a better life, there would be nothing to define Centaurus. A dream or an obsession? Centaurus wasn’t sure at this point, but it was all he had left. No family, no money, and no other future. “Guess she was always right. Well, I knew she was right, I always knew… but just...”

Just once Centaurus wanted to forget that he was a worm. Just once Centaurus wanted that person to pretend alongside him that he could achieve something.

“Why can’t I have something?”

“My my, you’re in a real rough spot.”

A shadow washed over the mess of light and color that made up Centaurus' vision. Just by the sound of the voice, Centaurus felt a pang of annoyance.

“Come on, Centaurus! Lemme fix you up! Maybe even let me take a look inside of you. Hehe…! Don’t worry, I promise I’ll stitch you up. It’ll just hurt a liiiiitle bit. By the way, anesthesia's out of the question. Ahaha!”

With the last of his strength, Centaurus said one thing:

"So long, Space Cowboy," he said, wishing only the best for his one and only friend.