Tales of the Parodyverse

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killer shrike
Tue Jan 24, 2006 at 11:34:25 pm EST
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The Adventures Of Alcheman #26, Part Two
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The Adventures of Alcheman #26 Continues


“Vexed”


Grace O’Mercy pressed the stethoscope against Cole King’s hirsute yet chilled chest, “Breathe,” she requested.

The ex-mutate labored to inhale. The woman listened to the congestion in his lungs and made a mental note.

“So…am I gonna make it, Doc?” he joked weakly.

“I’m not a doctor,” the Night Nurse corrected. She dropped the ‘scope back into her bag and looked for her syringe.

“What’s in there?” Varmint worried. He hadn’t been a fan of needles with his healing factor.

“Nothing. I’m going to take a blood sample and get the hospital to run some tests,” Grace exposed Varmint’s sinewy arm and began tapping for a vein.

From his station at the foot of the bed Alcheman stirred, “Can that be done without compromising his identity?”

The pretty brunette smiled, “I can call in a few favors.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do, Alcheman. You’ve probably saved my life a few times and I haven’t even known it.”

The Chemical Crimefighter grew uncomfortable, “Not really. Though I did help De Brown Streak save Canada.”

“Mikey… ain’t exactly in the big leagues… Doc,” Varmint wheezed, “None of us are.”

Grace drew blood and applied a bandage, “I don’t think you were supposed to tell me Alcheman’s first name, Mr. King,” she cast a sidelong glance to the still masked hero who had ashamedly requested she wear a blindfold when driven to the Joy Corp’s Lair, which appeared to be a snug townhouse outside of Seedytown.

“Yes, well… what now?” Alcheman fidgeted.

“Now, if Mr. King feels up to it, I’d like to go through his medical history. Allergies, family illnesses, surgical records. Those sorts of things.”

“I got the… inclination if… you got the…time.”

Grace O’Mercy cast a quick glance at the clock on Michael’s nightstand. Two hours until dawn.

“I have the time,” she said resolutely.

*****


It was Tribal Fusion Night at Mota, so Jenni and Trudi Wooster decided to go native. (Designer) Saris, (clip-on) nose rings, and (wash-off) tattoos made up their ensembles. They finished trancing to the latest didgeridoo techno mix and made their way back to the bar, where their guardian waited.

“Those women, by the neon sculpture, are watching you,” Chiaki Bushido observed, “They seem piqued.”

Jenni either didn’t hear the warning or had too much of a buzz on to care, “Chiaki! I think next time we go out you should put your hair in dreds.”

“Who’s eyeing us?” Trudi squinted to see.

“Next time?” the Psychic Samurai had a bad feeling about such a possibility.

“Yes. Your hair is soooo nice and loooong. Perfect for dreadlocks,” she leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, “It’s not true what they say you know. You don’t have to rub poo in to get that look. Just don’t wash it for a few days.”

The more cogent twin recognized one observer, “That’s Constance Blott.”

“Hee,” Jenni guffawed, “No doo-doo for the hairdo.”

“Focus, sister: the cow is coming over with the rest of her herd,” Trudi muttered before adopting a more exuberant tone, “Constance! What a surprise!”

“Trudi, Jenni,” the robust woman in the gold lame tube top smirked, “Who’s your friend with the… interesting fashion sense?”

“This is Chiaki. She’s our bodyguard.”

“Really? What for?”

Jenni blinked, “What what for?”

“I mean, why on Earth would you two need a bodyguard?” Constance explained, “You’re more a threat to yourselves than anyone else.”

“That’s so clever of you, Constance. And I’d been told syphilis dulls the wit,” Trudi fired back, “Chiaki is our security because of our position in the superhero community.”

“And what position is that? Prone, with your feet behind your ears?” the eldest daughter of international arms magnate Obadiah Blott purred before shaking her head dismissively, “Its just like you two airheads to glom onto a trend that’s so clearly over.”

“Oh, you’re just jealous that the only man in costume who pays any attention to you is the guy who gives out free samples outside of Pancho Pollo’s.”

“Why should I care what a bunch of incompetent, unpatriotic, cowards think of me?” the woman snorted, “Thank God the government is doing something to rein in those power-mad gloryhounds.”

Chiaki Bushido didn’t like the route this conversation was taking. She was especially concerned about the flinty expression worn by the normally milquetoast Jenni.

“You take that back, Constance Blott. You take back what you said about superheroes right now,” the reedier Wooster twin seethed.

“Don’t be an ass, Jenni. I know it’s a challenge, but-“

That was when Jenni kicked off her heels and executed a flying tackle Ray Lewis would have been proud of.

*****


Michael Wooster was very tired. But he wasn’t dying, so he counted himself as lucky.

The Elemental Adventurer had left Miss O’Mercy and Varmint to piece together his medical history to take a quick catnap on the bedroll he had set up in his old weight room. He had to be at work in two and a half hours, and before that he would need to take Grace back to the hospital and return Honoria’s car and make a quick stop in Hell’s Bathroom to check in on Smooth Operator’s watch for Garbage Burner.

There was a soft knock on the door, “Alcheman?” the Night Nurse called.

Quickly rising and kicking his sleeping bag behind weight bench Michael answered, “Yes?”

The slim figure in nurse’s scrubs came in, “I think I know what’s wrong with Varmint. His skeleton is poisoning him.”

“Oh. How- ?”

“When he was part of the Weapon V program the government molecularly bonded Impenitrium to his bones. Impenitrium is an indestructible alloy that is nearly impossible to forge.”

“I know.”

Grace nodded, “Of course. Look who I’m talking to. Such large amounts of metal in a body could cause a normal patient to suffer from toxic shock, but Varmint’s mutate healing factor averted that.”

“And now his mutate powers are gone,” Michael finished, “Can he be treated?”

“I don’t know. Removing it would take means beyond what conventional medicine allows. You may need to call on help. Maybe the Lair Legion?” Grace was well acquainted with Earth’s premier super team.

“No. Cole is afraid of letting anyone with government connections examine him. His previous experiences have not been positive.”

“I don’t think the Legion would do anything to harm him,” she said confidently.

“Also, I don’t want to put the Lair Legion in a situation that may endanger their legal status: by helping us they risk charges of aiding and abetting wanted criminals,” he explained.

“You can’t do this alone, Al… Michael.”

Alcheman blinked, then smiled ruefully, “But I’m not alone. I’m part of a team.”

“Yes, well, where is your team? You seem to be the only one trying to help.”

“That’s not true,” Brick House and Whitney Spheris were aiding earthquake victims in Albania, Operator was on the aforementioned stakeout, and Bendist had gone ‘undercover,’ saying he may have a lead on the whereabouts of Varmint’s old handlers. The only member of the Joy Corps who was inactive was Holothuroidea Lad, and he was recovering from his own injuries fighting the Bedazzler.

Grace could see her accusation hurt the tired-looking man in the sleeveless tunic, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply the others weren’t pulling their own weight.”

“I understand. It’s just…hm,” a glimmer of realization appeared in Alcheman’s eyes, “Molecularly bonded, you said?”

“What? Oh, yes, yes- Varmint’s bones are laced with impenitrium. Do you think your powers could help remove it?”

“No, my powers don’t work that way… but I know someone who could,” Alcheman straightened, “We need to find the Suicide Blonde.”

*****


“Baron!!” the poltergeist shrieked as he materialized in the torture chamber of Schloss Schreckhausen, “I have news!”

“It better be good news,” Baron Ottokar Attila Kublai Tamerlane Zemo grumbled as he supervised the oiling of his iron maiden.

“Yes! We spy on Wooster house, look for way in. We see!”

“See what, you ethereal hooligan?!”

“Vampyr, Baron. We see Wooster take vampyr into home!” the ghost reported fervently.

“Wooster has invited a nosferatu into his home? Past his wards?” the Neonecromantic Nazi sneered, “Very interesting.”

Next: Alcheman struggles with responsibilities to his family and to his team, while Grace struggles against forces of a different nature. Out soon.





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