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About Deviant Member Maritza CamposFemale/Mexico Recent Activity
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“What did you say,”  the tiny lagomorph repeated, in shock. “What did you just say.”

Blackjack cackled with dark glee. “Did they do that thing to you where they stick you inna box and play loud music at ya? Guess so.”

“It is not possible,” Cocky said. He was standing up now, although he seemed nailed in place. “I got captured. My whole squad did. We got a distress signal coming from a crater, and, and when we got there…”

“Stole yer army comm codes from you that last time. Remember? I was tryin’ to gather some support to not get kicked out of the Thirteen. But I already had a Plan-Bee. One with a sting,” Blackjack stood up himself and tossed his helmet aside. “A bit o’ generosity on your part coulda saved you, Cockwell. I guess I made you pay for that.”

“But… but the Wirmenian captured us… not the Khail… they, they just sold us… they…” Cocky babbled, barely coherent now.

“I sold the codes to the Khail, and they gave them to the Wirmenian. BAM! Win-win-win. You lose.” Blackjack got closer to the cage, and with every step, Cocky seemed to be getting more and more unhinged. “They already got a reward set for you, but you were very hard to trap, and you were surrounded by very loyal people. Bribes didn’t work. So I went to the Khail and proposed an alternate plan. I got paid handsomely for the information, and didn’t have to deal with you or your crappy army friends.”

“You…” Cocky started saying, but he couldn’t go on. His whole fur was standing on. He stood as close to the wall cage as the chain allowed it. It rattled as he shook in rage, and his breath fogged the glass.

Blackjack himself took another step forward, and the only thing standing between him and his old enemy was half an inch of unbreakable glass. He dropped his voice to a whisper.

“An’ speakin’  of healing guns, I heard the Khail have ‘em too. I’m guessin’ they used that to keep ya alive no matter what they did. App’rently they did a shoddy job on actually breaking you, but as they say, life always gives ya another ch-”

Blackjack recoiled suddenly as Cocky unexpectedly bashed his own forehead on the glass of his cage with stunning force. He should have gone down after the first hit, but he somehow kept going at it, three, four times total. Then he fell down, unconscious, only leaving behind a red smear on the glass, which had not cracked in the slightest.

The black rabbit looked at the bloodied heap on the floor of the cage. “Aw, Hell,” he muttered, and opened the first aid locker on the opposite wall. There was a single healing gun there, and he took it out. He cautiously approached the glass cage and opened it. After a moment of hesitation, he kicked Cocky in the kidneys, hard. He knew from personal experience it was impossible to fake unconsciousness through that, so he kneeled down and slightly pressed on the prisoner’s head, but it was difficult to tell if there was a fracture or not. He got up again. “Cocky, you dumb little bitch,” he mumbled, and shot the unconscious lagomorph with the healing gun, anyway. It was probably going to take Cocky a while to wake up, so Blackjack guessed something had to be done about what had happened. He couldn't hit Cocky with the healing gun for the rest of the day, so as amusing as it was playing with him, they couldn't afford Cocky hurting himself again, at least not in a fatal way. The chain could be shortened so the captive couldn’t reach the glass, but there was still the wall, and the bench, and the floor.

Blackjack scratched his head and started thinking Cocky would have to be completely restrained for the rest of the trip, or simply put under sedation. His thoughts were interrupted by Murray, his second-in-command.

“Blackjack, we… whoa. What happened in here?”

“Mark went crazy,” Blackjack shook his head,  pensive. “We need ta make sure he doesn’t kill himself. Load a canister of Big Sleep on the cage chamber, prolly our best bet.”

“Right away, boss. But I think you should know, there’s a mmh. Situation going on.”

Blackjack stepped out of the cage and closed it.

“Good or bad?”  Blackjack took off his blood-smeared gloves and fetched a fresh pair from one of his multiple pouches. “Get on with the canister thing, we can’t afford him waking up or we’ll lose our million.”

Murray nodded and put away the healing gun while he surveyed the boxes in the first aid locker. He finally located one and took it. “It could be real bad, boss. Well, it is already bad, but… y’ know, I don’t want to accuse anyone…”

The black rabbit frowned. “Just tell me b’fore I get on mah slapping mood, Murray.”

Murray opened the box. “Well, the men were looking at the bounty bulletins, and…”

“Not interested in any bounties until we deliver this one here. Or what? Don’t tell me his bounty was cancelled.”

“Nah, that’s still going on. But… someone put a bounty on you, Blackjack.”


“One million units if dead, two million units if alive.”

Blackjack stared at his underling, dumbfounded. Then he started roaring with laughter. “Well, whaddayaknow? Cocky’s friends got balls, alright. I’m pretty sure they don’t have the money, but it’s hilarious anyway.”

“I don’t think it’s funny, Blackjack.” Murray cut open the box with his pocket blade. “Half the galaxy is going to come after our ass. It’s too tempting, even with our reputation.”

The black rabbit chittered. “Oh man, you’re really worried, ain’t ya? Relax, man. Listen. We deliver this guy, and afterwards, we get that bounty cancelled, one way or the other.”

Murray got out one of the very heavy canisters and nodded. “Maybe we should make sure to cancel the bounty first, or we risk getting ambushed while we make the first delivery.”

Blackjack shrugged and leaned down to pick up the remaining canister himself. “Nah, no time for that. Cocky’s buyers are not bounty hunters, so I’m pretty sure they won’t even know ab-”

CLANG! The sound of the canister hitting the back of Blackjack’s skull rudely interrupted the conversation.

“Speaking of bounty hunters, Blackjack,” Murray said, cheerfully, “we have two deliveries to make.”
Honor Thy Bet by crfh-maritza
Honor Thy Bet
A night of Poker and games at the Inventory, featuring characters from my comic/fanfic Honor Thy Name, plus some characters from Poker Night itself.
“Hey Brock,” Rocket said, “pass me the thing with the thingie on top.”
Without even looking, Brock silently handed him one of the tools that were nearby and returned to his task. He was utterly dismayed at the amount of work that needed to be done: Blackjack and his goons had gutted Rocket’s ship real good. He only prayed silently for his body not to give in, because if it did, he would lose the best friend he’d ever had. Brock cursed himself for always being the weak link in a fight. Both Desiree and Cocky continually tried to coax him into practicing his techniques, but he was so embarrassingly below their level he was continually discouraged and he had settled for being mere support, all the while knowing one day he’d regret not listening to them.
And suddenly the day had come.  Brock thought bitterly that if Des blamed herself for what had happened she really had no idea of the amount of guilt he’d feel if Cocky ended up dead, or worse, in the hands of the Khail.
And all he could do for the time being is try to get Rocket’s ship moving and not faint himself.
His thoughts were interrupted by Desiree suddenly standing behind them.
“Rocket,” Desiree said softly.
“Hm,” Rocket grunted, rudely. Brock raised an eyebrow, thinking that maybe he wasn’t paranoid at all and Rocket seemed angry at Desiree for some reason. He had thought Rocket was simply very angry at the general situation, but he noticed his grumpiness seemed aimed exclusively at Desiree. She, however, played indifferent.
“Do we have long comm?”
“Absolutely not, Toots. We can’t reach even your own ship, do you think we would?”
“Just asking,” Des said, ignoring the nickname. “How feasible it is to have long comm soon?”
“Chances are zero, since I’m not planning on working on it, Toots. Your calls to your mother can wait for the time being.”
Oh boy, Brock thought. He wondered if he should intervene. But he decided against it for the time being. Too bad Desiree wouldn’t let him.
“How feasible it is to have long comm soon, Brocky?”
“Hey, Toots. This is my ship, y’ know? If you want to keep on being the Captain, you can go back to your own ship.”
Desiree looked at him smiling slightly. “Just a second, Rocket. I will be with you shortly,” she said. Then she turned to Brock and asked again. “How feasible it is to have long comm soon, Brocky?”
Brock looked fearfully at Rocket, who seemed about to blow a fuse. Then at Desiree. “Two, three hours if I get to work on it right away, Des.”
Desiree nodded. “Then get to it, please.”
“All right, that’s enough! If you think…”
Desiree turned to Rocket calmly. “Why are you angry at me?”
“Because you can’t just waltz in here and start giving orders, Toots, that’s why!”
“Technically, Brock is MY underling, so yeah, I can. I can’t give you orders, however, on that you’re absolutely right. And when I give you an order, please remind me. I seem to do these things automatically now.” Desiree brushed her hair off her face. “But you’re calling me Toots again, so I’m guessing you’re angry at me. Since I don’t consider you particularly shy, I thought the best course of action was simply asking you directly.”
Rocket started furiously pawing in his tool box. “That’s all I ask, Toots. Be direct. Don’t think you can manipulate me into stuff. I’m in a particularly crappy mood, and no matter how hot you are or how many tricks you have under your sleeve, it’s just not gonna work.”
Brock turned to look at Desiree, alarmed. Desiree’s eyes were huge. “Oh.”
“Darn tootin’, ‘Oh’”. Rocket got back to work.
“You were listening.”
“Well, the medical bay is one of the places where it’s a good idea to have mics that can be sensitive even to very low voices, in case someone needs help but is too weak to shout.”
A pause. Brock decided it WAS time to intervene.
“Um, Rocket, we…”
Rocket dismissed this. “It’s not with you. We’re cool, you an’ me. But I have a beef with people who underestimate me.”
Desiree sat down. “Okay, I owe you an apology, Rocket. In my defense, I was getting a bit desperate. It is a very bad situation for us. And I have a lot of respect for you, but…” Desiree looked down. “Cocky is our best friend and we have been through a lot together. You saw what he did to save Brock. And we would have done the same for him. I’m sure at some point you’ve had a friend like that.”
Rocket suddenly stopped turning the wrench he was working with. After a pause, he resumed work. “Yeah,” he said, his tone softer. “Know the feelin’.”
“So, uh…” Desiree looked hesitant. She seemed about to touch Rocket’s shoulder, but her hand retreated by itself. “Rocket, let’s start over. We all are trying to save our friends. We have to work together, one hundred percent, or they’ll pay for it. Did I get that right?”
Rocket turned to look at her, still grumpy but evidently no longer furious.
“I’m on your side, if you haven’t noticed. I probably have no real reason to be, but I somehow am. Just… be straight with me or we’re gonna have a problem around here.”
“Noted,” Desiree said, humbly. There was a silence. Finally, Rocket asked:
“Why do you want to have long comm so badly, woman? You understand we can’t do anything if this ship can’t move.”
“I understand. But there are other things to consider. And since you were listening, you know what we think already of the whole situation.”
“Pretty much.”
“What’s YOUR take on it?”
“More or less the same. Only I’m more cynical about it.”
“So where is Groot?”
“No idea. Like you said, it’s very unlikely Blackjack took him. But it doesn’t matter. I’m going after Blackjack, and after I get my hands on him, he’s going to tell me what he did with Groot.  And I will enjoy every second of it,” Rocket said, poisonous.
“I have checked Cocky’s location data,” Desiree started saying,  “and Blackjack has not stopped at any point. I was thinking maybe he took Groot and got rid of him at some planet or asteroid. But the data doesn’t support that theory.”
Rocket gave the female lagomorph a sideways, pained look. “That’s just assuming too much of Blackjack. Sounds like a lot of work for him. He probably just threw Groot out of the airlock.”
“Well, he has not stopped. Rocket, I don’t know much about Groot’s race. Would throwing him out of the airlock kill him?”
“Not immediately,” Rocket said. “It’d take some time, but I’m guessing that eventually, yeah.”
Brock turned around to look at Desiree, trying to find out what she was trying to do. But he didn’t reach any conclusion. Desiree was unreadable at the time being.
Desiree hesitated for a second, and then she said, “But if he threw Groot out of the airlock, by the time you find out it will be too late to help him.”
“You are right, but what else can be done? I saw no Groot when I did that bit of spacewalk. Of course, he could have floated away, and in that case, we’re never going to find him. I’m open to any ideas.”
Desiree stood up. “I’m going to be thinking about it,” she said. “In the meantime, we need long comm working.”
Brock nodded and started mentally planning the steps to get it done. Rocket interrupted his thoughts.
“Brock’s helping me get this ship moving, so if he’s going to stop so he can get you that long comm, it better be important.”
Desiree looked at Rocket and said “What do you think are our chances of fixing this ship and actually catching up to Blackjack?”
The raccoonish creature seemed taken by surprise by the question. “I don’t know. Brock’s good. Almost as good as me.”
“You wish, Fluffy Tail,” Brock said, deadpan, although in good spirits.
Rocket groaned. “Anyway,  he’s pretty good. I’m thinking the original time I estimated has been reduced by half.”
“And we’ll half that if Rocket steps aside and lets me make this ship faster,” Brock said mockingly.
“Don’t you have faintings to do?” Rocket turned to Desiree. “All I’m saying, our chances are better than I thought.”
“Still, what ARE our chances? You said be straight. So be straight, now.”
Rocket made a face. “Dim, kiddo. Ain’t gonna lie. Pretty dim. Even with both of us working together.”
Desiree nodded. “Get me that long comm working,” she said, smiling predatorily, “and I’ll buy us some time. This is gonna be fun, you’ll see.”
Brock shuddered. “I’m terrified and slightly aroused.”
“Stop channeling Cocky, Brock.”
“Now I’m curious,” Rocket said. “Okay, Tall Guy.  Let’s make it half for long comm for the lady, then. I’ll give ya a hand.”
“On it,” Brock mumbled through the screwdriver he was holding with his mouth.
Thanks to all of you who comissioned art from me I could finally get a new computer :3 I'll get to work on your pieces ASAP!

Now to reinstall everything hahaha XD
  • Mood: Joy


Maritza Campos

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The fact that you favorited "Block Out the Thunder" has me floored, amazed, and tickled pink, my good friend.  Words cannot express!  Thank you! X3
crfh-maritza Featured By Owner Jan 15, 2015
i don't even really know the characters and I still like it a lot, good job
Zeephra Featured By Owner Jan 13, 2015
Thanks for the fav +fav   Meow :3 
crfh-maritza Featured By Owner Jan 13, 2015
np! :D
hydranoid2009 Featured By Owner Dec 18, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
dude......Venomized Rocket and Groot!…
crfh-maritza Featured By Owner Dec 18, 2014
gotta get my hands on that comic
hydranoid2009 Featured By Owner Dec 18, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
I think it's over a couple issues. It's an event going on about the symbiote homeworld I think
2ndMercWithAMouth Featured By Owner Nov 23, 2014  Student Filmographer
Thanks for the favs :D
crfh-maritza Featured By Owner Nov 23, 2014
No problem!! :D
2ndMercWithAMouth Featured By Owner Nov 24, 2014  Student Filmographer
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