Zojak felt his joy melt away. This purple forest that Lorana spoke of turned into a sterilized comfort zone for well-to-dos. He expected to see hundreds of bending tree-like organisms for miles, to see wildlife cover the tops and bottoms. It was instead quiet, nigh lifeless and a mockery of flora.

“Lor,” he inquired, rubbing his curly, fiery hair. “I thought you said this place was full of beautiful life. I just see short grass and boring people.”

“It used to be when I was younger,” she confessed, lowering her shoulders. “Looks like they turned it into this abomination of all things natural.”

“A golf course...”

“Afraid so. I guess the Flidians were desperate for money, and this was the best thing to ail them.” She sighed as her eyes turning away in defeat.

Zojak’s disappointment in this abrupt change of an environment he longed to see and Lorana’s melancholy made him sorrowful and sympathetic, understanding the loss of precious nature. That attitude changed as a small, golden ball beaned him in the head. Spurred by an ignorant man’s ball, his sadness turned to anger. Money or not, too much of the field was used as playtime for only a few.

“Lorana, if I tell you a plan that may not work, will you help me?” His voice was still calm, but his face was urgent.

“What are you thinking?” She looked down at him, brushing her dark hair away from her face.

“You remember those very slow moving garpniks we saw earlier?”

“Uh huh?” She paused and saw Zojak wiggling his eyebrows in a mischievous manner. “Oh no...” His eyebrows wiggled faster. “We are not going to do that.”

“Lorana, it’s the only way to get these country club dumbasses to get it. The garpniks already have nowhere else to go.” His voice softened. “If they’re going to go extinct, they at least the right to go down pissing off these guys.”

“You are so goddamn strange,” she sighed and crossed her arms. “But they do need a habitat. And it is fun to make rich people uncomfortable.” She smirked devilishly, and Zojak followed suit.

“How’d you describe your family life before you left, Lorana?” He asked while leaning against a tree as he made sure his orange, curly hair wasn’t caught in the bark..

“Hmm,” she looked up with a finger on her chin. “Too much etiquette and not not enough freedom. I never felt like I was my own person. I think that’s why I liked leading my ragtag group for the short time we were around.”

“Did you feel sheltered?” His face was hard to read from the lack of expressions, but his tone was softer.

“Oh, in some ways sure. But I still had enough awareness of the outside world.” She proudly beamed, as wind blew against her medium length black hair. “I grew up knowing how others say one thing and do another. The higher up you were in the world, the more conniving. So, that’s probably where I got my guile from.”

“You’re a hell of a lot smarter than me with people, that’s for sure,” Zojak grinned.

“It was anxious, though. People you thought were nice and trustworthy... and the minute you’re vulnerable, they put a dagger in your back. People are scum.” Zojak only nodded, his face showing immense understanding. “But it was great to know I come from a proud heritage, and that my upbringing allowed me to look through older generations to see how I can make my own future. No matter how many brutish strangers or lying ‘friends’ I’ve had to deal with.”

“Is that why you’re so anxious about this legacy thing,” he bluntly asked.

“Maybe,” she sighed. “Even though I know you have your own separate journey… I appreciate you still being my man. Er, my right hand man.” Zojak laughed heartily at her flushed face, as she groaned. “You know what I mean.”

“Absolutely, my queen,” he walked away from the tree and smiled more genially with his own cheeks getting redder. That in-turn made Lorana relaxed.

She turned and smiled to Zojak. “What about your own? Your adopted parents raising you from such an early age.”

“I feel…,” he closed his eyes and lied down on his back with limbs spread out. “I think it was hollow? Having aliens for parents makes for a strange transition for a lot of things. Talking to others, opening up, puberty.” He paused. “Even milestones were weird, because how many human kids can you relate to about a Glopnak ceremony?”

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s a coming of age event where the child becomes an adult by giving gifts to his enemies. As a sign of maturity, y’know. And mine involved giving an old bully some cards I liked.”

“Did he at least like them?” She sat down next to him.

“Probably not since he kicked my tailbone several times. He still kept the cards so that was progress.”

“Oh, my sweet, poor bastard,” she consoled, putting her hand over his own. She thought of something to help his mood. “Was there anything you appreciated about your upbringing?”

“Well,” his frown started to lift upward. “They were concerned for my safety in the obvious stuff. They weren’t great with what human kids wanted to hear when they were anxious or whatever, but they knew I needed a new limb when life decided I didn’t need it.” He pointed at his robotic, blue-tinted artificial leg that went below his knee.

He looked at Lorana and sat like her, her head rested on her arm as she listened intently on his story. Zojak himself was getting nervous telling more about his life but did not want to disappoint her.

“They tried is the important thing,” he finished as his foot began tapping. “It’s nice to know that my birth parents were alive for at least my first 2 or 3 years, and other stuff they told me about ‘em. They read enough books about raising humans to get the basics. Can’t fault ‘em for that.”  

He looked at a pair of flying lizard-like aliens on a tree flicking their tongues at each other. Nothing appeared to be a fight, it was a natural form of communication, and Zojak thought some more.

“I remember before I became an adult, I wanted to play a guitar but it never felt right. A lot of other normal instruments. But I felt natural playing this one alien type with, a frono, this thing that looks like a volcano with columns of keys around it. And when they gave that to me, it killed a lot of my anger and boredom in those rough years. Stuff like that.” He looked up again at the treetops. “I was hard to deal with. So maybe I was better with them than I would with most human parents.”

Lorana smirked and giggled until she saw his blue expression. Her face lowered as she looked at him again. “Were you mad that you couldn’t live like others?”

“I mean yeah. There’s a still a lot I missed out on even now that frustrates me.” Honest anger exited from him, yet his face turned calm and melancholic afterward. “But knowing my luck, mobs and authority figures would find another way to grind me down since I had issues even without the alien adoption thing. And in a way, they helped me get off my ass and go on this adventure, and I’d probably never would’ve had the chance to really know you. So I’m grateful for where it led me.” He smiled softly at her. “I’d like it if I were less strange, though.”

They both laughed, and Lorana chimed in. “Hey it means you are what you are. I’d prefer a unique knight than a fake, charming one any day.”

“And I prefer a strong queen any day over a lame, cold one.” He looked around and grabbed some leaves. “A toast! To us noble dregs!”

“Wh- Why are you showing me this thing?”

Lorana grasped a hand-sized wood carving of a cartoon cat with a smug expression, large pupils, and a raised paw.

“His name is Jerry,” Zojak asserted. “I respect his dreams of a better world with a calm face. It comforts me. I’m confident it will calm the king, too.”

“I appreciate the gesture, but we are not using ‘Jerry’ as a gift to the king. We need something grandiose and noble.”

“What’s more noble than this?” He placed Jerry next to his face as he mimics the cat’s smile.

Lorana stared at him with exasperation and wide eyes as her face contorted. She finally exhaled and her stature relaxed.

“All right,” she advised. “Seeing how we have no other ideas since the king has a known aversion to performance art… This creature is our best bet, so I’ll have to sell him on its greatness.”

“What’s to sell?,” he puzzled. “Does he hate cats or artistic souls?”

“What I mean is,” she continued, rubbing her chin. “Maybe if we play up this thing’s importance, the king will be less likely to imprison us.” Zojak nodded with full understanding. “So I’m thinking we could say it belonged to a dynasty of powerful regents. Specifically mine of course.” She gracefully lifted her hand on her chest with a calm smile.

“I won’t lie about Jerry’s purpose, but you’re still technically royalty. I’ll say it’s a protective charm to aid the righteous in their journey.” He held Jerry up high with one raised arm.  “An omen of luck and hope in dire times.”

“Brilliant! How’d you come up with that on the spot?”

“Because I made him last second so that crazed king wouldn’t throw us in a pit.”

Zojak

Physically stout with some chub and slightly over 5 foot, but strong and agile enough to carry himself well in a tussle

Orange curly hair, freckled white skin, deep blue eyes, likes wearing warm colors on his upper body and cooler ones on his lower half.

Blue sword-like markings curving around his cheekbones, and a robotic leg from his right knee down.

Raised by aloof aliens and a turbulent history with people made him distant to strangers, so he misses a lot of social cues and comes off as more intimidating than he really is

Enjoys adventures and new sights, but focused mainly on finding his true culture. Various folks either give misinformation or outright betray his trust. Only Lorana helps him out.

Ardent and protective towards those he trusts (or animals and children), but he’s also impulsive and too passionate at times

Hides a romantic view of the world despite his alienation, leading him to be further motivated or be hurt more profoundly by expectations.

Lorana

Taller than most women, slender with some muscle, dark-skinned, preferring elegant, quick fighting

Shoulder length black wavy hair, almond eyes, loves wearing vibrant yellow clothes mixed with black

Gold earrings with crescent shapes to them, cape is brown on the outside, black on the inside

Formerly from a nearby dynasty that was disrupted and scattered by enemies, she decides to form her own nomadic “kingdom” and to recruit new loyal subjects. Only Zojak stays with her.

Guileful and shrewdly aware of others’ intentions, but can come across as too pragmatic in what she says

Upbringing involves a plethora of scientific know-how, and she has a detailed mind from it

Has a nurturing side she mainly reserves for hurting beings, and is sensitive to a number of conflicts and issues