This was it. This was her moment, her time to shine. After weeks of hard work, of shedding blood, sweat, and tears (thankfully, none of her own), Peril was about to land the Big Fish. Selachii the Shark, the Don of the Ezi Crime Family. The father of corruption on Kilrypso V and the biggest, meanest bastard in Carp City.

Peril was gonna nab Selachii, bring him to justice, and put her name on the map. Soon, everyone would love, fear, and respect the name 'Green Bolt.' Criminals everywhere would wake up in a cold sweat at night, shaken by nightmares of this legendary Gem. Fellow bounty hunters would tip their hats to her and the Blackhearts Guild would be forced to promote Peril to a B-Rank member. Missions would grow more dangerous, sure, but that was half the fun! What's life without a little challenge? Why, missions would come flooding in, providing Peril with mountains of sweet, sweet moolah. All the better to develop, refine, and perfect her Limb Enhancer technology.

Visions of sparkly weapons floated in her mind's eye, each more beautiful and powerful than the last. From plasma cannons and electro whips to neural blasters, oh! Such wonder, such rapture! Peril shivered at the thought, her fingers aching for a screwdriver and wrench.

"Soon, my lovelies, soon I'll build you..."

What's more, Peril could finally join her friend, Nephrite Cut-3XE, on missions. That green goofball got Peril in the business in the first place, and she was forever grateful. Not only was that cycloptic Gem loads of fun, but a great listener too. Peril could blather about her inventions for hours and Nephrite never got bored or walked away. Nephrite simply nodded along, gazing deeply into Peril's eyes. Only a fellow genius could truly appreciate the majesty, the artistry of Limb Enhancers, and Nephrite's devotion proved that. She was perhaps the smartest Gem Peril knew.

Second only to herself, of course.

What a great friend. Peril sometimes wondered if Nephrite had a girlfriend? What a lucky gal! Peril would give her left leg to date a Gem as sweet, pretty, and friendly as Cut-3XE. Or someone so badass! That sharpshooter could blast the whiskers off a Veltrani Tiger at a hundred meters. Peril learned all her sharpshooter skills from Nephrite. Was it any wonder she was such an awesome bounty hunter?

All a'buzz and covered in goosebumps, Peril shook her head fiercely. Regrettably, this was not the time for daydreams. It was time for action. With each step, fate carried Peril closer to her glorious destiny. As she climbed the stairwell to Selachii's office, the metallic frame creaking beneath her curvaceous body, the Green Bolt slowed her racing heart.

"Okay, okay! Act cool, be cool." Peril stopped herself at the door, hand on the handle. When her eyes clenched shut, she was but a Peridot, a long way from home. When her eyes snapped open, she was the Green Bolt, soon-to-be the greatest bounty hunter in all the galaxy. Badass skills flexed at her fingertips, and a sharp-toothed grin split across her lips. "Right! Let's do this!"

A rusty creak filled the office when the door swung open. Her nerves taut as razor-wire, Peril beamed like the sun itself.

"Yo, boss! Got a sec?" Peril tried and spectacularly failed to mimic the crude, city-slicker accent of the Ezi Family. The Green Bolt strolled headlong into the office, but not before locking the door behind her. Interruptions or last-minute escapes would not serve her well. "I've gots news for yah! Seems that Julian, head of the Marlon Family, can't make the auction! He sends his deepest apologies, and asked if his son, Jeremy, would be welcome instead?"

The office was quiet. Darkness engulfed the room, where the shadows stretched long and deep. It felt as though claw-tipped hands reached out, ready to strangle Peril at the earliest opportunity. Worse, smoke hovered around the ceiling, thick and dense like a deathly veil. It burned the back of the throat and made Peril's eyes water. Judging from the cigarettes that filled the trash can, someone had a fondness for tobacco.

Only a single lamp lit the room, and it shone directly over a large, ornate desk. The chairs and couch that filled the leftmost side were similarly fancy, lending to a refined, if detached atmosphere. Much like an opera house, which radiated a sense of wealth and prestige, yet was terribly unwelcome to those too poor to walk its grand halls. Paperwork, pens, and mugs littered the coffee table resting between the plush furniture, and manila folders were pulled out seemingly at random from filing cabinets on the right-hand side.

It looked like the office had been busy but a moment ago. Where had Selachii's goons gone? A hush fell over the office, as if a thousand eyes watched with bated breath. It was enough to unsettle the nerves of even the most steely-nerved hunter.

In the silence, Peril cleared her throat. She gazed at the desk, behind which stood a tall, leather chair. It faced towards the window, away from the door, grim and foreboding. Peals of smoke wafted from the chair, curling in the air like spectral tentacles.

"Uh, boss? Did you hear me?"

A harsh voice snarled at Peril, bold as a brass band and deep as the sea. As the shadows coalesced and her vision grew clearer, the Green Bolt saw a scaly hand clutch the chair's armrest. Sharp claws nearly rent the leather to pieces, before growing lax. Long, webbed fingers drummed back-and-forth, as if fighting for patience. At the same time, a long tail dotted with pale scars draped across the floor. It similarly twitched on the spot, swinging up-and-down.

"Oi dought Oi told youse maroons not to desturb moi privacy?" The voice growled like thunder, rumbling loud enough to make glass shudder in the windowpane. Shivers went down Peril's spine, as if a thousand icy fingers crawled across her back. It took every ounce of her willpower not to run out the door. "Wot part of dat do youse not understand!?"

Peril gulped hard as beads of sweat rolled down her forehead. Selachii the Shark's infamy preceded him. Clearly this was not a Piscesiod to be trifled with; his volcanic temper unleashed its fiery wrath upon anyone unlucky enough to stand near the man. The impact of his presence alone was enough to make plants wilt and children cry. That was the voice of a man who happily 'gifted' a thousand souls cement shoes before plunging them into the cold, dark brink. That was the voice of a man who'd stab his beloved brother to backtalk. That was the voice of a monster.

This would be the fight of Peril's life, for sure.

Silently, Peril pulled out a plasma pistol from her ample cleavage. It was small enough to fit seamlessly and her hardlight flesh was dense enough to hide it from metal detectors. She cocked it as a low, electronic whine escaped the gun and its vents glowed white-hot. She approached the desk with cat-like tread, stepping on the thickest parts of the luxurious red-and-gold carpet. If she closed distance, this fight would end before it began.

"I'm awful sorry, boss!" said Peril, her voice sweeter than honey. Her lower eyelid twitched as she inched closer. "I didn't mean no disrespect! But, uh, would you mind signing this here paper? Just so Mr. Marlon's brat has security clearance?"

The voice rumbled again, fouler and meaner this time.

"Shut it! Youse stupidity gives me migraines!" The leather chair bounced up-and-down as webbed fingers stroked a scaly forehead. "Leave da papers and go! Oi ain't got no time for youse nonsense!"

Peril's hand trembled as it skated across the solid oak desk. Silently, the other hand reached out for Selachii. Her breath light as a feather, the Green Bolt gulped hard.

"Sure, boss, sure! I'll do... just... dat!"

With a single sweeping motion, Peril swung the chair around. Metallic gears squealed loudly and wind rushed in her ears. Fiercely, the Green Bolt shoved the plasma pistol in Selachii's face, right between the Piscesiod's eyes.

"Alright, dirtbag! Your time is up! Hold your hands where I can see 'em, and nobody... gets... hurt?"

Peril blinked a few times. Tilting up her star-shaped visor, the Gem rubbed sand from her eyes. Then she blinked again.

Selachii the Shark looked nothing like his Wanted poster. There were few pictures of the mafia don and even fewer photographs, for bloody-minded paranoia made him terribly camera-shy. Peril thought Selachii would be built like a mountain, maybe a Great White or a beefy Bullshark? Somebody who could lift Gems over his head and Shatter them upon his knee. A tall, muscle-bound monster who towered over the world and ripped heads clean off men's shoulders. That, or Selachii would be a pipsqueak of a mafioso; short, mean, but fierce. Maybe he could strip the flesh off men's bones like a barracuda, where he'd fly through the air like a bullet and chew through steel with his teeth. Something like a Cookie-Cutter Shark, or a Lanternshark?

But sadly, that wasn't the truth. In the leather chair before Peril, lips scowling and eyes cold as ice, sat a humble Nurse Shark. Just a Nurse Shark, with lanky arms, rubbery legs, and zero muscle tone. A stiff breeze would knock over this lightweight. A half-baked Gemling could beat this twig in an arm-wrestling match. The razor-thin scars that marred Selachii's face and his blue-and-white pinstripe suit filled his sails well enough, telling a story of a man who lived a life of misery and mayhem, but that wasn't awfully impressive. Not when much of Carp City was full of sharks, fish, and other Piscesiods with patchwork scales, milky-white eyes, and missing teeth. This city lived and breathed violence. It was a way of life for them.

For Diamond's sake, the Don barely stood to Peril's shoulder! And she was considered short among Peridots! Selachii might tower over his munchkin goons, but among normal Piscesiods, he'd hardly stand out.

No. No no, this must be a joke. Selachii the Shark couldn't be a weak, no-name looking loser. This was a trick, yes, a clever trick! A ruse to throw Peril off, one that baffled even her immaculate genius! Yes, yes, that was the only possible answer. After all, the Green Bolt had been making waves around Carp City, whether she busted up weapon deals or gobbled up goons like popcorn shrimp. Her brilliant disguise must've been somehow seen through. Selachii must've known she was coming and planted a body double. This noodle-limbed nobody was a distraction. The real Selachii must be hiding nearby, watching and waiting like the sneaky bastard he was. Why, he must be laughing behind Peril's back even now!

This was an ambush!

Her lips twisted into a scowl, Peril jabbed the gun against the Piscesiod's cartilaginous skull. It nearly knocked off the wide-brimmed fedora hat off his head.

"Alright, you bottomfeeder! Where's Selachii the Shark? Where are you hiding him!?" The plasma pistol whined loudly, its muzzle hot to the touch. "Huh!? I'm a very busy woman and don't have time to kill!"

Grappling the Nurse Shark tight, Peril caught him in a chokehold. Her head whipped around wildly, expecting Selachii's goons to swarm her like a blood-fueled feeding frenzy. Whatever hiding spots they popped out from, she'd be ready to fight tooth-and-nail.

"But I will blast this scum's face off if anyone tries anything! So no funny business, capiche!?" Peril broke out into a heavy sweat, the room blurring into a flurry of colors. She twisted left-and-right, wondering where he first attack would come from. "Come out, come out, wherever you are! Selachii, you won't get the drop on the Green Bolt!"

Hissing between his teeth, the Nurse Shark squirmed in Peril's grip. If looks could kill, she'd be stone-cold dead already. Those black, bottomless pits he called eyes were absolutely empty. No warmth, no shimmer of light, escaped from those fathomless depths.

"Dat are youse blathering about, youse big-booty bigoli?" The Nurse Shark clanked his jaws together, making sparks fly. "Oi am Father Selachii! Unhand me, now!"

"Shut it!"

Peril continued to panic, searching for any sign of danger. Her back was against the window, and when she realized this hideous gap in her defense, she spun on the spot. The Green Bolt pointed the gun at the glass, half-expecting a daredevil dogfish to jump through and fill her with plasma. A flurry of white-hot bullets would poof even the strongest Gem, but there was no way the Green Bolt would lose so easily. She was too smart for these fish-faced, funny-talking bozos!

When her fiery demise failed to materialize, Peril relaxed her trigger-finger ever-so-slightly.

"Wait..."

Peril blinked.

"Is it... really true?" She glanced at the Nurse Shark. His scar-covered face was half-buried between the Green Bolt's armpit and her voluptuous chest. If the Piscesiod's long snout didn't poke clear through the cleavage, he would've passed out from a lack of oxygen. "You're Selachii? Really? You?"

"Don't sound so upset, mio mafalde!" Selachii snarled from the back of his throat. Muscled coiled beneath his slate-gray scales, bundling together like rubber bands. "Oi might not be da biggest fish in da pond, but Oi didn't get where Oi am todays withoot being da toughest!"

A cherry-tipped cigarette in hand, Selachii jammed it into Peril's face. While the star-shaped visor protected her from the red-hot embers, ash and smoke still blinded the Green Bolt. She stumbled back, frantically wiping her face clean. This allowed Selachii the chance to slither away, and crouching low to the ground, the Don curled his hand into a fist.

"Make a mockery outta me, will yah!? Nobody makes fun of da Formaggio Grosso. Nobody!"

Hissing like a poison-toothed hydra, Selachii the Shark punched Peril in the chest. He punched her again and again. And again. His fists flew straight-and-true like arrows. They fell upon Peril like a hail of bullets. The frenzy of blows was furious, wild even, yet there was pattern to the madness. As a youth, Selachii fought on the streets and in the boxing ring. He shed blood and broke bones. Selachii never left an opponent standing, not until he was crowned champion of Carp City's King of Fighters Tourney. In fact, he was the star pugilist on Kilrypso V, even after boxing was outlawed .

This Piscesiod would do anything to reach the top. Selachii clawed his way up a mountain of bodies until he led one of the meanest, most cutthroat mafias on the ocean-covered planet. So what if he was a Nurse Shark? Species meant nothing compared to bloodlust, ambition, and skill. Selachii the Shark was forged inside the fiery crucible of Kilrypso V's underworld, and he didn't regret a second of it.

The mad frenzy of blows drove Peril back. Her Limb Enhancer boots skated across the floor, digging grooves in the carpet. She was so overwhelmed that blocking or dodging were impossible. Her only thought was of pain and Selachii's screams.

"Die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die!!!!!" howled Selachii, who only saw red. Rearing back his right arm, the mafia don delivered a final uppercut straight at Peril's chin. "Die!"

The punch sent the Green Bolt flying across the room. Heavily, she struck the couch and rolled over it like a rag doll, toppling the furniture onto its frontside. Lost in bloodlust, Selachii hopped onto his desk and pulled out a Tommy gun.

The office rang with the shriek of plasma fire.

"Die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die!!!!!"

The hurricane of unholy death only stopped when the Tommy gun's electric battery ran dry. Selachii kept pulling the trigger a few times, only for the gun to let out a whirly whine of protest. Snarling under his breath, he threw it away and turned back. Selachii admired his handiwork.

The couch was riddled with holes. After the first few shots, it had burst into flames from the white-hot heat and now was little more than a charred lump. The chairs, coffee table, walls, and carpet were similarly ruined, with the furniture reduced to piles of timber. Glass shards covered the floor, and the heat burnt the ceiling black as charcoal. When smoke floated to the ceiling, the fire alarm went off.

As the sprinklers sprayed the office in cool water, Selachii adjusted his suit.

"Hmph! Dumb broad! That'll teach youse to mess with da Boss!" Spinning on the spot, Selachii hopped off the desk. He reached for his phone. "Daw, sweet rigatoni! It'll take weeks ta refurbish dis place! What're my bozos up to, letting dings get outta hand!?"

Just as Selachii touched the phone, a gloved hand caught his wrist. His head jerked 'round, only to gaze the Green Bolt dead in the eye. Covered from head-to-toe in soot, her deflector shield flickered blue-and-green a few times before shutting down. Peril's chest was bruised red as a rose and her grin was long gone.

Idly, almost casually, Peril spoke.

"You know, boss!" Peril squeezed Selachii's wrist until a fleshy thunk filled the air. It felt his cartilaginous bones might break like angel hair pasta. The Piscesiod squirmed on the spot, trying to free his arm, even if it meant losing a hand. Peril's voice grew cold and distant as the moon. "It's funny! If you had punched an inch higher and caught my gem, or if I hadn't eaten a dozen of your worthless goons! Maybe you would've Shattered me! Or if I hadn't activated my Crystalline Bubble Barrier MK. 12, I'd be a pile of shards! Luckily!"

Peril hoisted Selachii off the ground by the collar. The mafia don pedaled the air wildly, trying to catch the desk by the corner and kick the Green Bolt at the same time. She was thoroughly unimpressed by the pitiful effort.

"My beautiful, babelicious boobs! Were thicc enough to survive the barrage! So thank you, Mr. Selachii!" Peril opened her jaws wide, exposing a mouth overflowing with sticky saliva. Strings of the stuff rolled across throat muscles that undulated back-and-forth with every gulp, and puffs of steam wafted from the hot breath. "If you didn't hire such losers, I wouldn't be here! About to enjoy a world of flavor and a lifetime of fame!"

"Wait, wait!" Selachii waved a webbed hand back-and-forth. "Let's talk! Oi can give youse money, weapons! Wotever youse heart desires!"

"Oh yeah?" Peril raised an eyebrow. A long, gastric gurgle escaped her gut and an emerald-green tongue danced across her razor-sharp teeth. "Well, I'm ready for some sashimi. So bottom's up!"

Gwuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuulllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllpppppppppppp!!!!!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If there was any mercy in the universe, it was how smooth sharks were. After the first bite, they slid across the tongue like butter and down the throat like sliced ginger. They had a salty, yet savory flavor like salmon and a rich aftertaste that made tastebuds quiver. Sharks satiated empty bellies with their ample, juicy flesh, yet left every palate hungry for more deliciousness. Oh, what a fantastic paradise was this fish-flavored feast!

One shark was never enough.

Still, Peril could content herself. As she devoured Selachii the Shark little-by-little, bite-by-bite, moans escaped her throat. The tight tunnel bulged with meat, squeezing every inch of the mafia don. Saliva rolled down her chin, dotting the Green Bolt's bruised, yet buxom chest with shimmery beads of drool. At the same time, her hand rested atop the ever-growing gut, pushing down bulges as Selachii thrashed about like wild-caught tuna. After receiving such a fierce smackdown, Peril had little desire for indigestion.

Not that Peril worried much. Selachii would be assfat soon enough. She just needed to finish the meal.

Stupid... mean... bastard!" Peril took a hearty bite of Selachii's tail, dragging her sharp teeth across the scarred scales. The tail hung past her lips and slapped her swollen stomach, which pressed against the desk. Anything to reduce the squirming prey, who's voice was muffled into incoherent mumbles by digestive growls. "Don't you know anything!? Bounties are worth more alive than dead! This'll cost me a 30% pay cut! Why couldn't you come along peacefully? Urgh, and how am I gonna prove I actually caught you? There's not even gonna be a skull to show the authorities!"

Whatever. It didn't matter. Peril caught Selachii the Shark and everyone would believe her story, even if she had to twist their ears to do so. The Blackhearts Guild would acknowledge her great deeds, and the galaxy would adore the Green Bolt. It was inevitable.

As the emerald-green gut grew faster by the second, swelling like a blimp, Peril stroked the fleshy prison. It had grown almost half of Peril's size, dominating her curvaceous body. Her giant gazongas lay atop the belly and her leotard stretched thin to contain all that meat. Nothing felt quiet as good as a scrumptious meal like this. Peril didn't wholly hate how things turned out. She just wished they'd gone smoother.

That, and she wanted more food.

""Once I send you to a watery grave," thought Peril, taking another bite out of the scaly tail. "I'd better amscray. Who knows what'll happen if— "

"Boss? Boss!"

Several heavy knocks came on the door, enough that it nearly bent double in the doorframe. The sound of voices, more than a dozen total, echoed outside. There must be a whole crowd of goons waiting by the office.

"Wot was dat? We heard gunfire! Youse okay?"

Peril glanced over her shoulder. A bead of sweat rolled down her brow. As the sound of Selachii swearing up a storm grew clearer over the gurgle of caustic acid, she watched the doorhandle jiggle right-and-left. When it finally turned around and the door flew open, there gathered dark shadows outside. Each glared inside the office like vultures spinning circles over a freshly-killed carcass.

"Oi! Who are youse?" asked a fish-faced goon. He pointed a webbed finger at Peril. "And where's da boss?"

Slower than molasses, Peril continued to slurp up the shark tail.

"Uh." Peril's voice was muffled by both the tail and the wet sluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrppp of her meal. "I... can explain?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wha-oh! This doesn't look good! While Peril might've taught Selachii why crime doesn't pay, it seems she's not in the clear yet! Whatever will she do to defeat, or perhaps escape, his legion of goons? Well, she'd better act fast, before the worst happens...

Luckily, things are looking brighter on this side of reality. Why's that? Well, I'm happy to report that the first art drive has been a rousing success! We've fundraised 104% of the $500 for April's treatment! Nothing has warmed my heart in recent memory quite like everyone's generosity! Thank you, donors, for all your support. As promised, 'Peril's Big Score' will reach its conclusion, with part 5 expected for release by April 30th or May 1st. From my friends to my faithful followers, allow me to say a thousand thank you's. My love for you all is immeasurable.

Ah, but I'm being a sillyhead! For those just joining us now, here's the situation: my pet Balthazar the Destroyer of Worlds was recently diagnosed with cutaneous lymphoma. Although CL is rare in cats, this skin cancer does occur and typically kills them within a 5-month period. Naturally, we plan to fight tooth & nail to save my poor kitty, and to that end, Wollygoffy, Delt, myself, and a few other friends have agreed to a collaboration. For every $100 donated to the cause, we will continue this art drive with a max goal of $500. The cancer treatment lasts between 6 months to a year, depending on how well the patient responds, so there will be one art drive every month until Balthazar is cured...

... or the other outcome.

This means the ultimate goal of the art drive ranges from $3K to $6K, but I'd hate to abuse the charity of my fellow Ariyionites by expecting more especially given our current economic uncertainty. Hence why the art drive is segmented into $500 intervals for every month of treatment. So please, if you can, donate to the art drive. If not, your attention, patience, and kind words are appreciated regardless. The last thing I'd wanna see is someone donating money they don't have. These next few months will be a difficult time for Balthazar, myself, and the whole family, but the fact that my friends have agreed to this collaboration fills my heart with hope.

Of course, if we exceed the $500 cap during a certain month, it'll flow over into the next art drive. If an overflow continues post-treatment, or if treatment fails to yield a cure mid-month, then everyone will be summarily refunded. Not an extra cent goes to my pocket. Oh, and one more thing! Some people have been exceedingly generous with their donations, and I've debated how to possibly repay them! My expectations hovered around, like, $5 or $10 per donation! To this end,  delt announced that he'd draw single character artwork for anyone who donates $50 or more, which will be accompanied by original drabbles written by yours truly. All these donors need to do is PM me or Delt on Aryion, send a DM on Discord, or reach out over Ko-Fi. Please provide proof of your donation, and Delt and I will discuss with you what your gift will entail. Provided it aligns with our Will/Will Not policies (please see our respective Commission Status pages), the gift can be about anything. Oh, and please hurry in claiming your rewards! It's possible that we may need to put gifts on-hold as we juggle them alongside this and future art drives, and we'd hate to create a backlog or make people wait too long!

For more information, please feel free to check out my blog post in the link below. Additionally, you can find links to the Ko-Fi fundraiser and my BlueSky account, where I'll be posting updates on Balthazar's condition. She was diagnosed on March 27, 2025, and mercifully, she began on April 14, 2025. She'll undergo several blood tests in the following weeks before her next treatment on May 13th, with the hopes of seeing a reduction in her cancer cell count. Otherwise, thank you all for your time!

The blog post:
https://aryion.com/g4/blog.php?id=85524
Cancer Treatment Fundraiser:
https://ko-fi.com/spider8fiend
Poll for May Art Drive:
https://ko-fi.com/polls/Mays-Art-Drive-L4L11DJ1C9
Social account & Health Updates:
https://bsky.app/profile/spider8dancer.bsky.social

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Art by my wonderful and faithful friend,  wollygoffy
Peril the Green Bolt belongs to  ruler101 and myself

Spider8Fiend: Feel free to share whatever comments you have in mind! If you have any criticism to offer, however, please try to make it constructive. If you have a lot to say, feel free to PM me as well so the comment section doesn't get too full~

Post a comment

No comments yet, make a comment please