WHO SAYS WE HAVE TO LET IT GO / open

The ex-officer (twice, actually) had been napping. Before that, he had recalled memories of his past, as if it were the night before his death or he did it regularly. He did not, in fact, it was just a habit he did sometimes when he had nothing to do. Today was one of those days when he was clueless as to what he should do and what he should have done, excel for one thing: be active. That was something he learned the hard way — two times.

Orca closed his eyes and let his imagination take place, where everyone can be anyone and strictness was forbidden.

Penguins romped around a patch of land that was the arctic, snow suspended in midair as clouds hung above them, unmoving and opaque. Beside it was a miniature village, or as your naked eye can see it as, a pin. A whole bunch of pins, a whole country of microscopic people. A microscopic and invisible sky hovered atop it, though at times you could see flickering lights or a thin layer of gray for the clouds and lightning, or the rays of the sun. There were also many, many more, such as killer whales with tutus and long eyelashes, but I've decided that it may take too long until I'm done.

A tuxedo tom, about the size of a fox, sat atop a sparkling golden chair with bloodied cushions for the backrest and seat, much like a throne. He had a golden crown on his head and a golden necklace around his neck, studded with the rarest of the rare gems and the like. His tail swayed around from left to right, up and down, though it was striped with the tip, a color of dirty white sneakers. He seemed very prideful and proud, and surprisingly, nobody around the island dared to even try to envy him. No glares, no whispers, just dirty workers doing dirty work while the royal King sat upon his seat, lazy.

Soon enough, the sun had begun to set and raindrops were being sprinkled on the citizens of Orcarina. Yes, you heard it. Orcarina. Like the ocarina, except it wasn't.

The rain, as if in slow motion, had splashed on the tuxedo cat's tail and he grew to a size of unmeasurable size, as if he was some sort of Godzilla creature. Though he was pretty much the size of it, the tux was not a tux anymore, nor was he a dinosaur at all. Hi was a liger, giant and unrealistic fangs growing to about three meters wide and who knows how long. The saber-toothed liger grew an enormous mane, which was then held back into some sort of ponytail as metal sprouted from his forehead, back and legs. He was an armored hybrid of sorts, devouring everything in his path. And soon, the world was nothingness.

Orca woke up with a start. Hopefully Tiersias wouldn't be like this, even if she wasn't a tuxedo male. It couldn't be him, of course, he was a very, very nice man who had only taken catnip a few times in his life.