Paddlewheel Maintenance

Paddlewheel Maintenance

Quaraun sat on the polished blue stained deck of the Blue Monkey, his long silvery tentacle-hair coiled around him like a nest of sleeping serpents. His delicate albino hands, encased in sleek gold-plated cyber-tech gloves, carefully worked over the intricate scrollwork of the ship’s railing.

Fine pink silk flowed over the deck beneath him, pooling around his slender frame as he adjusted the gold trim with meticulous precision. A small tin of paint rested beside him, the soft scent of fresh lacquer drifting on the breeze.

The ship was old — older than BoomFuzzy — which was saying something, since BoomFuzzy was a millennia-old undead Lich King. The paddlewheel was a monstrosity of wood and steel, half-rotted from exposure to the mud and ice of the frozen river. The engine room stank of rust and stagnant water. Ice crystals formed along the metal pipes, cracking and snapping with each vibration of the ship.

“Yer wastin’ yer time, Sugar Plum,” BoomFuzzy grunted from somewhere behind him.

Quaraun’s long rabbit-like ears twitched, the silver chains connecting his earrings to his nose ring tinkling softly. He did not turn around.

“It is not a waste of time. The gold trim is peeling. The gold trim cannot be peeling. Peeling gold trim makes the ship appear poorly maintained. Poorly maintained ships sink.”

“Ships sink for a lot o’ reasons, an’ none of ’em involve peelin’ gold-leaf paint.”

“Not this ship.”

“This ship,” BoomFuzzy sighed as he leaned lazily against one of the ornate smokestacks. “Is a floatin’ deathtrap.”

“Deathtrap or not, I shall not allow it to look shabby.”

Quaraun’s slender fingers, nimble even through the rigid structure of his gloves, traced a delicate curl in the ironwork. He dipped a thin brush into the paint and meticulously followed the curve, his crystal-blue eyes narrowing in concentration.

“You could help, you know,” Quaraun said. His soft, aristocratic voice echoed off the frozen walls, distorted by the hum of malfunctioning machinery.

“I am helpin’, CupCake,” BoomFuzzy said, perched on a broken control console nearby. His big, booted feet were propped up on a pile of defunct circuit boards, his purple tartan kilt half-unfastened, revealing the purple sequined black leather G-string beneath. He was peeling a banana with a knife, eating it slice by slice off the blade. His long grey dreadlocks spilled over his shoulders, brushing against the dirty metal floor. “Watchin’ ya is helpin’. Moral support an’ all that.”

“You are not helping,” Quaraun said, voice cool and sharp as a stiletto. His jellyfish tentacle hair writhed slightly as he leaned forward, bracing his cane between his knees to get better leverage. “You are sitting there half naked seductively eating bananas and showing off your G-string to distract me.”

“Is it working?” BoomFuzzy chuckled, biting down on another slice of banana.

“YES!”

“You realize,” BoomFuzzy said. “That the paddlewheel’s broken, aye?”

“I am aware.”

“An’ yer sittin’ up here paintin’ trim?”

“The trim is important.”

“The paddlewheel,” BoomFuzzy repeated slowly. “Is what moves the boat. The boat doesnae move without it.”

Quaraun paused, his pupils narrowing to thin slits as he gazed over the railing toward the stern. The massive red paddlewheel loomed over the river, tilted awkwardly at an unnatural angle. Steam hissed from beneath the hull, and a dark smear of grease marred the otherwise pristine white paint. The wheel had thrown off three planks during their last crossing. One of the remaining boards wobbled dangerously each time the current slapped against it.

BoomFuzzy’s large, calloused hands settled on Quaraun’s narrow shoulders.

“C’mon, JellyElf. Ya ken we got tae fix it.”

“I dislike mechanical repairs.”

“Yer the one who upgraded the ship with cybertech.”

“Yes. Which is why I am aware of how complicated it is.”

“Aye, complicated, but not impossible.”

“I am not good at it.”

“That’s why ya’ve got me.” BoomFuzzy’s rough fingers slid through Quaraun’s hair, stroking the slick, venomous tendrils without a care for the deadly stingers hidden beneath the soft exterior. “An’ Ghouly.”

Quaraun’s nose wrinkled.

“Glinta is not helpful.”

“‘Course he is,” BoomFuzzy said, waving a hand. “He’s got more experience with jury-riggin’ tech than both of us combined.”

“His solutions frequently involve explosives.”

“Aye, well, some o’ the best fixes involve explosives.”

The ship gave a low, shuddering groan. The paddlewheel creaked ominously. Quaraun’s long pink pupils narrowed.

“If this explodes, we will die.”

“Nah. We’ll be fine. Ghouly’ll fix it.”

Quaraun sighed and set down his paintbrush.

“Fine. Fine. Let us examine the wheel.”

They walked along the deck toward the stern, BoomFuzzy’s heavy boots clunking against the polished wood, while Quaraun’s soft silk slippers made barely a whisper.

GhoulSpawn was already there, half-hidden inside the paddlewheel’s engine housing, his golden fleece glinting in the dim light beneath the hull. His long fluffy digitigrade legs bent awkwardly as he rummaged through a tangled mess of wires and steam pipes.

“Hey dudes!” GhoulSpawn called, his voice echoing hollowly against the wood planks. “I think I found the problem!”

BoomFuzzy narrowed his eyes.

“Ya said that an hour ago.”

“Yeah, well, this time I’m pretty sure it’s not on fire.”

“Not on fire doesnae mean it’s fixed. Also it was yer incompetence what started the fire.”

GhoulSpawn sat up, a length of torn tubing dangling from his hand.

“Yeah, so, funny story — the hydraulic pressure in the cybertech modulator is, like, way off the charts. It’s, like, surging and creating a feedback loop. Probably blew the wheel outta alignment.”

BoomFuzzy crossed his arms.

“How do we fix it?”

GhoulSpawn rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“We could recalibrate the pressure valve. Ooor…”

Quaraun’s ears twitched.

“Or?”

“Or we could bypass the cyber-linkage and run the wheel on direct steam pressure instead.”

“That sounds dangerous,” Quaraun said.

GhoulSpawn shrugged.

“Sure, but it’d work.”

Quaraun rubbed his temples.

“I hate this ship.”

BoomFuzzy laughed.

“No ya don’t.”

“I hate this ship today.” Quaraun stomped around, pouting. “I did not take the trouble to steal this ship from a Disney theme park just to have it blow up.”

“Dude, you stole this ship from a Disney theme park?”

“Yes. They left is abandoned in a boat house. It needed restoring, so I restored it.”

“Wait, what ship was this?”

“It used to be The Mark Twain.”

“Really? I remember that boat. Wow this was like built in the 1970s. It’s an actual Disney boat. Like the man, Walt Disney. Not the company. He was still alive, had it commissioned himself.”

“I am not interested in it’s history. I am interested in it’s ability to transport me down river, like it is supposed to do!”

“Yeah. It’s kind of broken. The paddlewheel got messed up when we hit that ice.”

“I hate this ship.”

“You love this ship,” BoomFuzzy reminded him. “It was why ya stole it. Yis was furious when ya found it abandoned and rotting. Ya spent a fortune and years restoring it and upgrading it, all by hand yarself, because ya was too persnickety about details to let anyone help you.”

“You built this?”

“I did. I hate it when it malfunctions.”

“Ye’ll hate it less once it’s movin’ again.” BoomFuzzy rolled up his sleeves, revealing the intricate green serpent and golden dragon and silver hoar-frost tattoos spiralling up his muscular forearms.

“C’mon, JellyElf. Let’s rip this thing apart.”

Quaraun sighed.

“I suppose I am not getting out of this?”

“Nope.”

Quaraun leaned heavily on his cane as he stepped down into the narrow compartment beneath the wheel.

GhoulSpawn scooted aside, hooves clanking against the wooden floor.

BoomFuzzy knelt beside them, hands braced on his knees as he examined the complex network of tubing and gears.

“Ya realize,” BoomFuzzy said. “That this whole thing could blow sky-high if we mess up?”

“Then we shall not mess up.”

BoomFuzzy grinned.

“Confidence. I like it.”

GhoulSpawn handed Quaraun a small wrench.

“Here. You’re the only one with hands small enough to reach the coupling valve.”

Quaraun scowled.

“And if it electrocutes me?”

“Then it electrocutes you.”

Quaraun glared at him.

“That was not helpful.”

GhoulSpawn shrugged.

“I’m just sayin’.”

Quaraun took a deep breath and reached into the tangle of wires. His gold-gloved fingers wrapped around the valve. A soft spark crackled against the gold plating, but the insulation held. He twisted the valve sharply to the left, and a sudden hiss of steam burst from the mechanism. GhoulSpawn jumped back with a bleat.

“Ya could blow it up and it blame it on Ghouly,” BoomFuzzy suggested.

“Don’t say that!” GhoulSpawn’s panicked voice echoed from the other side of the room. The massive Sheep Demon Satyr was wedged awkwardly under a steel grating, golden fleece covered in grease and grime. His huge curved horns scraped against the ceiling. His long-fingered hands, black and stained with oil, were clutching a bundle of frayed wires. “Like, seriously, dudes! The hydraulic pressure on this thing is totally unstable! One wrong move and — BOOM — we’ll be human confetti!”

“We are not Human,” Quaraun said flatly.

GhoulSpawn made a strangled sound.

“Metaphorically speaking!”

BoomFuzzy snickered.

“I like confetti.”

Quaraun hissed through his teeth.

“I do not.”

“Aw, come on, Pinkie Pie. What’s life without a wee bit o’ chaos?” BoomFuzzy grinned, gold-plated teeth glinting in the dim light.

Quaraun’s ears twitched, his chains jangling softly.

“Do you remember the last time you said that?”

“Aye. Ya melted an iceberg.”

“Exactly.”

A pipe somewhere in the wall burst with a deafening BANG followed by a jet of freezing mist.

GhoulSpawn yelped, scrambling to free himself from the grating. His hooves slipped on the icy floor, and he crashed sideways into the paddlewheel mechanism with a loud clang.

BoomFuzzy whistled.

“That sounded expensive.”

“Of course it was!” Quaraun snapped. “This ship is irreplaceable!”

“Technically,” GhoulSpawn said, groaning as he sat up. “It’s, like, totally replaceable. Have you ever heard of the Ship of Theseus? We just have to find another pre-collapse Icebreaker with a functioning paddlewheel engine and intact neutron flux stabilizers and — okay, yeah, never mind, we’re dead.”

Quaraun sighed heavily and rubbed his temple with one gloved hand.

“I should not have let you dismantle the engine.”

GhoulSpawn pointed an oily finger at BoomFuzzy.

“He told me to!”

“Nay, Goat, I told ya t’ make it faster, not dismantle it!”

“It is not going to be faster if it does not work!”

“Oi! I’m not a bloody engineer!”

“I am!” GhoulSpawn wailed. “That’s the problem!”

Quaraun closed his eyes and took a slow breath. His ears twitched again, and his tentacle hair coiled and writhed around his shoulders. Then, without a word, he reached down, pulled his Rainbow Wand from the folds of his pink silk robes, and pointed it at the damaged paddlewheel.

“Green.”

A searing beam of acidic light erupted from the tip of the wand, burning through the rust and grime coating the paddlewheel’s gears.

Metal sizzled, steam rising from the corroded edges as the acid ate away at the damage. Quaraun twisted his wrist, and the beam shifted to bright white.

“White.”

The beam narrowed into a precise ray of light, fusing the freshly cleaned gears back into place. The paddlewheel groaned, then began to turn with a slow, mechanical rhythm. Steam hissed from the hydraulic system.

GhoulSpawn blinked at it.

“Holy crap, it worked!”

Quaraun’s crystal blue eyes narrowed.

“Of course it worked.”

“Yer a bloody genius, CupCake!” BoomFuzzy crowed.

Quaraun straightened, adjusting his robes.

“It would have been easier if you had not interfered.”

“Aye, but where’s the fun in that?” BoomFuzzy slid off the console, sauntered up to Quaraun, and pulled him into a fierce, slightly sweaty hug.

“Unicorn, you smell like rotten bananas.”

“That’s love, Sugar Plum.” BoomFuzzy kissed the top of Quaraun’s head.

GhoulSpawn stood up, brushing soot and grease off his fleece.

“Uh… guys?”

BoomFuzzy raised an eyebrow.

“Aye?”

The ship shuddered violently. A low, bone-deep creaking noise echoed through the hull.

GhoulSpawn’s golden eyes widened.

“I think the pressure release valve just — “

BOOM!

The three of them were thrown to the floor in a tangle of limbs, silk, dreadlocks, and fleece as steam erupted from the paddlewheel housing.

Quaraun’s ears flattened as he lay sprawled beneath BoomFuzzy and GhoulSpawn. His delicate silk robes were singed.

BoomFuzzy grinned sheepishly.

“Oops.”

Quaraun sighed.

“I despise you both.”

“Nah,” BoomFuzzy said, nuzzling Quaraun’s ear. “Ya love us.”

Quaraun’s ears twitched. His nose ring chains tinkled softly.

“…Yes. I do.”

Quaraun got up and went back to fiddling with the pressure valves.

“Pressure’s dropping!” GhoulSpawn said.

“Hold it steady,” BoomFuzzy growled. He planted a hand on Quaraun’s back to steady him.

Quaraun’s arm trembled, his delicate muscles burning under the strain. He adjusted the valve one last time. A sharp clunk echoed through the hull.

The paddlewheel creaked.

Turned.

A single red plank slapped against the water. Then another. The wheel spun slowly, churning white foam in its wake.

“Success!” GhoulSpawn shouted.

“Not bad, JellyElf,” BoomFuzzy said.

Quaraun sat back, breathless.

“I shall require chocolate for this.”

“Aye, and ya’ll get it,” BoomFuzzy promised, helping him up. “C’mon. Let’s see if this thing’ll make it down the river without explodin’.”

GhoulSpawn climbed out of the compartment, his horns scraping against the ceiling.

“If it explodes, can I try my idea with the explosives?”

“No!” Quaraun and BoomFuzzy shouted in unison.

GhoulSpawn grinned.

“Just checking.”

The Pink Necromancer, Moon Elf silk weaver & merchant: Quaraun on Noodle Beach. His master chef Phooka turned Lich husband: BoomFuzzy with his 1968 VW Bus Beach Noodle Food Truck. And their on again/off again mad scientist Sheep Demon lover: GhoulSpawn with his 1974 AMC Gremlin time machine. Time Travel setting swings back and forth between 40th century Maine after a comet hit the moon decimating the planet, and the 1970s, Maine. Quaraun in the main character, he and BoomFuzzy are a married gay couple. GhoulSpawn is their shared live-in lover. Art by Wendy Christine Allen.

BoomFuzzy

Quaraun

Faeries vs Elves (In The Quaraun Series) A Pink Necromancer World Lore Post

The Pink Necromancer: The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane aka The Twighlight Manor Series

🌸🦄🌸 Furry Yaoi Fiction about Elves and Faeries and Satyrs and Demons and Unicorns and Technomancer Wizards and Liches living in a Lighthouse and surviving as Travelling Merchants and Food Truck Chefs in Cyberpunk Dystopian 40th Century Maine, and Zombie Apocalypse and Time Travel but it’s Slice of Life Vignettes of Mundane Daily Lives of The UnSeelie Court’s Royal Family trying to survive after a comet hit the moon and turned the Earth into a CyberPunk Ice-Age. 🌸🦄🌸

• eBook Editions from this series can be found on: GumRoad

• Kindle, eBook, Print Paperback, & full colour illustrated Hardcover Editions from this series can be found on: Amazon

Meet The Characters

This page was written by Wendy Christine Allen of 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine. All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © [oldest articles written 1978],[website founded - 1996] –

Books By Wendy Christine Allen
Currently Available on Amazon Kindle:

Index of the Quaraun novels, novellas, & short story collections on Amazon

And GumRoad:

Index of the Quaraun short stories on GumRoad

On Medium:

An Index of the more than TWO THOUSAND Quaraun Short Stories on Medium

(NOTE: a $5 or $15 per month paid subscription required to access stories on Medium)

On Vocal:

Index of the Quaraun short stories on Vocal

On Notd:

Index of the Quaraun Short Stories on Notd

On OnlyFans:

Index of the Quaraun Short Stories on OnlyFans

(NOTE: a $4.99 per month paid subscription required to access stories on OnlyFans)

Pink Necromancer Merch: On CafePress:

An Index of the Quaraun Merch on CafePress

Pink Necromancer Merch: On Zazzle:

Index of the Quaraun Merch on Zazzle

Not Quaraun:

This page was written by Wendy Christine Allen of 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine.

All Rights Reserved.