 |
|
|
Post By Visionary Mon Aug 28, 2006 at 11:57:18 pm EDT |
Subject
The Ballad of Sir Mixalot: An Oversized Tail of the Mythlands | |
|
|
Next In Thread >> | |
Author’s Note: This story takes place before Untold Tales #282: Beyond the Fields We Know, or Through the Looking Glass “You should have just bought the enchanted rose” Fleabot muttered again. “I can’t buy every enchanted rose from every ugly beggar woman we run across!” Hallie argued, stamping a hoof on the cobblestone street. “How was I to know this one was going to melt away to reveal a beautiful Enchantress? Besides, Vizh took all of our money to try and haggle us a room at the inn.” “I’m just tired of sleeping curled up with a rock” the Regular offered. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about…” Flapjack noted to Hallie. “She cut you a break and only made you half-Beast.” “Whoopie” the perturbed green centaur muttered sarcastically, swatting at a biting fly with her tail. Fleabot shook his mechanical head irritably. “Oh, like this is so great for the rest of us, what with… aw, dammit, not agai…” With an “Urk!”, his head was pulled back inside his body and the doors closed behind it with a snap. Hallie rolled her eyes and advanced the hands on Fleabot’s body to the next hour. “#@%&%!” “#@%&%!” “#@%&%!” the little robot swore each time his head extended back out of his body. “Why the hell am I the cuckoo clock? Isn’t the damn butler supposed to be turned into the clock?” “Please…” Flapjack snorted. “You can’t go by Disney. He didn’t even get half of the things that went on in Snow White’s story right. Let me tell you, the way I heard it, she wasn’t exhausted and difficult to wake because she had been eating an apple.” “How do you even manage to be turned into a Barcalounger in the Mythlands? If you’re going to be furniture, shouldn’t you be a milking stool or something that actually exists here?” The shabbily upholstered walking recliner smiled with his seat cushion. “You’re just jealous because so many wenches have sore feet and are eager to sit down.” “And how come every one that sits on you leaps up with a shriek?” Hallie asked with a raised eyebrow. “I must have a loose spring in me” the chair answered smugly. “Or rather, they get a loose spring in…” “THIS must be the place!” Visionary interrupted quickly. “The innkeeper said this is definitely the guy to see.” “Cecil Biscuit, M.D, DDS, COD: Doctor of scientifical affairs and applied practical magickology” Fleabot read the sign hanging above the cottage door. “Wow… a doctor in the mythlands. Maybe we’re lucky and he’s half veterinarian?” “I’d like to point out that I have four steel-shod hooves for stomping now” Hallie growled. “Er… yes. Did I mention they look marvelous on you? If only the blacksmith had a matching bag to go with them…” “Look, sniping at each other isn’t going to solve anything…” Visionary argued. “Oh, look who’s talking, Mr. Didn’t-Change!” The Regular tried to look apologetic while opening the door for the others. “I was in the inn… I can’t help that the Enchantress didn’t know I was part of the group.” Considering the irritability in the air, he figured now wasn’t the time to mention that he had bought one of her roses inside the tavern before he knew what had happened to the rest of them. What he had hoped would be a nice gesture of affection when given to Hallie was now something just short of rubbing her nose in this latest setback. Considering her formidable kicking power, he figured that maybe the rose best remain hidden under his belt… If only it didn’t have so many thorns, he thought, shifting his furry loincloth with a wince. “Oh my…” Dr. Biscuit exclaimed, circling Hallie a third time. “And you say an Enchantress did this to you?” He adjusted the multiple lenses that adorned the intricate goggles he wore and leaned in for a close look at her green-furred flanks. “Really a remarkable job… and actually quite a lovely color.” Hallie blinked and pawed the examining room floor with embarrassment. “Er… thank you, Doctor” she managed. “A-hem” Visionary interrupted pointedly, not liking the enthusiasm the physician was showing for his patient. “We all agree she’s a lovely hue. The question is, can you get her back to normal?” “Mr… Visionary, was it?” Dr. Biscuit asked, looking up at him with magnified eyeballs and a professionally bland look upon his handsome young face. “Do you know why you were referred to me?” “Well, it seems kinda obvious now” Visionary noted, nodding to the centaur doctor. His nude, muscular torso terminated at the waist, becoming the imposing figure of a chestnut brown thoroughbred with a long black tail. Vizh definitely didn’t like the way Hallie was admiring that tail… “Exactly… Because I am the foremost doctorologist in the tri-kingdom region. No doubt you’re unfamiliar with fields of scientific technologitude and mathematastical equationology, but I assure you, it is the wave of the future. I have written numerous papers on the application of scientific treatments for magical afflictions owing to the agencies of ill-natured Enchantresses, and as a result your friend could not be in more capable hands.” “You just made all that up!” Visionary accused. “I most certainly did not!” the centaur scholar snorted. “My credentials are on the wall, sir.” He lifted his goggles and ran a hand through the floppy jet black tresses dropping down in front of his eyes. “I assure you, madam…” he told Hallie earnestly, “Science may be new here in Faerie, but it’s nothing to be scared of. People may scoff at it, or call it make-believe… a field of study for fools and those laughed out of the great Wizard Academies, but I believe in it with all my heart, and I know it can be a great help to the people of the land. People like you, suffering from the capricious nature of magic and its users. Science is the great equalizer of the people, and the new illumination of the spirit, lifting us all out of a dark age into a new enlightenment!” He stopped and blushed furiously. “I’m sorry… I get a little carried away…” Hallie smiled at him. “It’s okay… I like science too. And you’re right… You’d be amazed at what a little light can do.” He blinked in astonishment. “You… you know of science?” “You could say that” she answered modestly. “Back in Parodiopolis, I…” “You’re from… the mundane world?” he asked excitedly, taking her hands in his. “Here I had my doubts about Elfin Zebulon’s descriptions of the Fabled City of Parodiopolis… about its very existence… and you say you actually live there?” “You know Zebulon?” Hallie asked with interest, surprised herself. Visionary noted she didn’t make any effort to retrieve her hands. “I know Zebulon… It’s really not such big deal” he interjected. “I attended all of his lectures at the Queen’s Conference on Polydimensional Transference! All of my peers wanted to hear the Hell Lord’s presentation, but I made the right choice. The artifacts he brought with him! The rubber band! The electrified bread toaster!” “I have an electrified bread toaster…” the Regular tried again. “Zebulon’s on the lecture circuit, eh?” Hallie asked, amused. “Heh… Mr. Big Shot! I remember when it was just me, him and Enty in the Lair’s basement running equations, bending space and time and trying to extinguish appliances before catastrophic meltdown set in with their power cores…” “You… You know the master scientist NTU?” Dr. Biscuit’s eyes went wide. “I know Enty…” Visionary offered loudly. “In fact, funny story about that electrified bread toaster…” “Oh my word…” the doctor gasped in recognition. “You’re the ethereal being of mathemacality! The H.A.L.L.I.E.! You’re practically a legend! A goddess of science herself!” “Well, I wouldn’t say goddess…” Hallie answered modestly, blushing. “But… legend, you say?” The doctor’s young, handsome face shone with enthusiasm. “I would simply love to have you look over my work! I’ve been doing some equational calculatory work on the half-life cycle of the common milk curse… it would be an honor to discuss my scientological theories with you!” “Sure thing…” the green centaur woman replied eagerly. “It actually sounds fascinating… and it’s been a while since I got to talk, er… scientologically with anyone” she added with a grin and a wink. “I can talk scienta… scientaloo… scien…” Visionary offered, but trailed off. He worriedly watched them chat back and forth with easy familiarity as Dr. Biscuit rummaged through a chest for the proper scrolls of his work. “Um… Doctor?” he called. “Doctor? Doctor!” “What?” the two centaurs blinked, looking back to him. “Maybe we should see about getting the immediate matter taken care of first?” Visionary suggested pointedly with a nod towards Hallie. “I doubt Fleabot or Flapjack are particularly enjoying their time in the waiting room…” he added, although that statement may have been belied by the sudden screech from the next room of yet another unsuspecting wench who had happened upon a cozy looking place to sit. “Oh! Yes… quite right” the doctor replied with embarrassment. “Terribly sorry… I don’t know where my head’s at… I’m just a life-long mundane-o-phile, and…” “No need to apologize, Dr. Biscuit” She assured him. “Oh, please… call me Cecil! Any friend of Zebulon’s…” There was another squeal from the waiting room. Cecil gave a small cough and regained his detached composure. “Um… Right… let’s continue with the exam.” He nodded towards Hallie’s dress, which seemed even more comically short in light of the immense horse body coming out the bottom of it. “You’d better remove your garment.” “Right” she said, grabbing the hem then pausing. “Vizh?” “Yes?” the Regular answered attentively. She looked at him in silence for a bit. “Do you mind?” she finally prodded. Visionary looked back and forth between the two centaurs, who stood watching him. “What?” “I believe the lady would like some privacy while she disrobes” Cecil observed. “But you’re staying?!” The centaur physician looked at him patiently. “I am the doctor” he observed. “I can’t very well conduct the exam without being in the room.” “You’re a doctor of applied intrinsic Quackology!” Visionary complained, turning to Hallie. “You can’t seriously treat this guy like a regular physician!” “Oh, come now…” Dr. Biscuit bristled. “I assure you, the lady has nothing I haven’t seen before.” “Well, with the outfit she’s been in, that goes for half of Faerie too, but you don’t see them in the examination room!” This last argument might have been a tactical misstep, as it prompted the Regular to flee through the doorway moments before a surgical instrument, thrown by a green skinned hand, embedded itself into the doorframe next to his head. “What’s eating you?” Flapjack asked as Vizh moodily plopped himself down in the waiting room. “The doctor didn’t have a flea dip for your loincloth?” “Hey!” Fleabot complained. “Nothing” Visionary muttered, digging through the centuries-out-of-date scrolls and parchments stocking the waiting room coffee table. “Is it that Hallie’s swooning over Pony-boy in there?” “She is not!” Visionary argued. “I mean, no… that’s not it.” Fleabot stroked his chin. “Well, it’s not impossible… after all, he’s handsome, athletic, a doctor…” “And part horse!” the Regular pointed out. Flapjack shrugged his cushions. “You say that like it’s not the best compliment ever.” “Got a thing for centaurs?” the secretary at the reception desk interrupted. “If so, I could hook you up with my daughter… she’s looking.” “Wait… what?” Visionary answered nervously. “You’d actually want him dating your daughter?” Fleabot asked with surprise. The centaur matron shrugged (which, considering her lack of clothing, drew applause from Flapjack). “Eh. She’s out to sew her wild oats before settling down. I’d sleep better knowing she was on a date that couldn’t amount to much in that department.” “Hey!” Visionary complained. “I’m sure what you have is fine for… whatever it is you are, dearie…” she told him. “But from our perspective, I mean… why bother?” Visionary scowled and leaned back in his chair to wait out the doctor visit. “I definitely don’t have a thing for centaurs” he decided. “It’s okay… it’s more common a fetish than you’d think” the secretary assured him. “Absolutely” Flapjack agreed, fluffing up his cushions. “Some guys like a little junk in the trunk.” “Please… Hallie’s got some junk in a U-haul” Fleabot observed. “Mafia hitmen don’t have trunks that roomy on their Cadillacs.” “I don’t have a fetish…” Visionary argued to anyone who would listen. “Honest.” Fleabot made a cough that sounded suspiciously like “green women”. “Really, it’s no big deal if you find Hallie’s new look oddly intriguing” Flapjack continued. “Plenty of men would. For instance, do you happen to know if you have any Welshmen in your ancestry?” It was going to be a long wait, Visionary decided. “Well, that was pointless” the Regular grumbled as they left the doctor’s office. “Yeah… you’re the one who should be Complain! Complain! Complain! Complain! Complaining…” Fleabot finally managed, on the hour. “He didn’t offer any kind of a cure?” Visionary asked as their odd group took the road out of town. “Well, he did offer to rub me down with boot polish…” Hallie noted, clopping loudly down the cobblestone path. “I’ll bet he did…” Flapjack leered somehow with a seat cushion. A quick hoof to the armrest quieted him down, though he only leered more grotesquely. “…But after I explained that the problem wasn’t the color of the horse body, but rather the addition of it, we began to make some progress.” She smiled mysteriously. “Although he made a very convincing argument about how fetching my tail was.” “I’ll bet he *owmph*!” Visionary threw his arms up in the air. “That’s it? I just paid out the money we were going to use for our room rent, and the best he could offer was cheesy pick-up lines?” “Again…” the cuckoo-bot grumbled. “Your whining may be missing the big picture.” “Phffft… relax” Flapjack said, trying to position himself for another kick, if at all possible. “The spell will wear off in a day or two if it’s not broken first. It’s all part of the tourist trade around these parts… The town enchantress sees a couple of rubes, hexes ‘em, and then maybe they buy some love potions or candy or whatnot from the local merchants to help meet the conditions of the curse, meanwhile everybody else gets a few laughs.” The rest of the group stopped short. “You mean, you know how to break the spell?” Fleabot asked the lopsided recliner. “Why didn’t you say something?!” “What, while there were still tired wenches about?” Flapjack answered. “Besides, even the freshest country bumpkin off the turnip truck from Poughkeepsie knows how to break this kind of spell. It’s not like Disney got everything wrong, or they wouldn’t have bothered freezing his head and sending it to Avalon.” He shrugged. “Of course, with a better percentage, maybe they would’ve taken the rest of him as well…” “Need any company?” Hallie asked, coming to find Visionary keeping watch on a hill above their campsite. “I admit, I’m having trouble sleeping.” Visionary nodded. “I’ve been putting off curling up on the ground and snuggling with a rock for another night myself. I was soooo looking forward to that bed.” “Yeah, well…” she gestured to herself. “Do you think you could even get a centaur into bed?” “Why do people keep assuming I would know anything about that?” Visionary sighed to himself. She cocked her head to the side. “What?” “Er… nothing” the Regular said. He scooched over on the hilltop, offering space for Hallie to settle her massive body down next to him. “You’re actually pretty good at maneuvering all of that” he complimented. “You silver tongued devil, you.” She snorted. “Actually, four legs is a pretty sturdy design. And some centaur instincts seem to have come with the package deal, so I haven’t been nearly as clumsy as I was when I first became human. In fact, once we got past the misunderstandings, Cecil had this fascinating theory about how I’m not as set in the narrative of the mythlands as everyone else is, on account of my nature. Since I can normally be whatever I want to be, holographically, he thinks some of that may follow me here in Faerie, accounting for me being mistaken for dryads and mermaids and all that. He’s really quite bright.” Visionary didn’t ask if those instincts included attraction to handsome, muscular horse-men. “So he thinks you want to be a centaur?” “Yes Vizh… it’s true. I want to have a butt the size of Rhode Island.” She rolled her eyes theatrically. “It’s just that the Many Colored Realm may find my nature convenient to work with. Still, it might be useful… The theory is that it’s all a matter of mathematically figuring out the story beats of the Fairy Tales that make up this place, and then knowing when to influence them. Cecil’s authoring a paper on the idea.” “Yes, well… I’ve been impressed with how well you’ve handled yourself here in the Mythlands…” he offered, changing the subject to someone he actually wanted to talk about. “I know how difficult and limiting you find flesh and blood to be…” He took her hand in his. “It means a lot to me that you’re here. All that you’re doing… all that you’ve done… Naari never would have had a chance without you, and I doubt I would have either. You’re really quite remarkable.” “Oh! Well… it’s not like I would have let you leave me behind… not with Naari out there.” She squeezed his hand and shifted, casually allowing him to lean up against her warm flank. “Besides, it’s not as if flesh and blood doesn’t have an upside or two…” He swallowed, trying hard not to think about just how much unclothed Hallie was in contact with him, fuzzy though it may be. “So, um… what did you think about what Flapjack said earlier?” She chewed her lip as she looked up into the night sky. “You mean… about breaking the spell?” “Yeah” he agreed. “Well, I’m no expert…” she began shyly, “…but I think, aren’t most of those spells broken with… a kiss?” “That… would seem to match my, um… recollection” he agreed, studying the ground. “I mean, Kerry’s a big fan of those films and all, so I’ve seen that one once or twice.” “Of course, this is the Mythlands, so it’s probably not just any kiss…” she noted. “Naturally” he agreed. “I think it would have to be… love’s first kiss, or something similar.” “Hypothetically” she swallowed. “Hypothetically” he concurred. They were looking into each other’s eyes without knowing quite how that had happened. “Visionary…” she breathed. “Yes?” “What do you have in your loincloth?” “Er…” he replied, blinking. “What?” “Something’s glowing in there!” she pointed, and sure enough there was a pink glow and glittering sparkles coming from somewhere under the mottled fur. “Oh! Um… that’s nothing. I mean, it’s not nothing, it’s just…” He shuddered and winced as she plucked the stem from the furs. “Gah! Thorny!” “A rose?” she said, her head cocked sideways. “Wait a minute, is this…” The sparkles increased in magnitude, and soon the entire hilltop was ablaze in rosy pink light. Unseen, a choir broke out in chorus as Hallie was lifted bodily from the grass to hang in mid-air, slowly twisting within the magical light. When it finally faded, she drifted back to the ground to stand on two legs again. “Well” Visionary blinked. “Um… What do you know.” “This whole time…” she said dangerously as she once again straightened her miniskirt. “I’ve been trailing around a gigantic horse’s ass and you had one of the Enchantress’s flowers tucked in your pants this whole time?!” “Er…” the Regular offered. “I don’t really have any pants.” “About frickin’ time, you two!” Fleabot’s voice rang out from the camp below. “And here I was hoping to watch…” Flapjack mourned. “You really banged out the counterspell… so to speak.” “He had one of the Enchantress’s roses this whole time!” Hallie yelled down to them. “Oh” the hunchback replied. “Yeah, that’d do it too. My way’s more fun though.” “Aheh… Who’d have thunk buying a rose would break the spell?” Visionary chuckled nervously under the green woman’s gaze, pulling his turtle neck away from his throat. “Um… Have I ever told you that you have really great legs?” Flapjack crept over to where the Regular lay in his blankets. “Here… I got this for your before we left” he said, shoving a piece of parchment into Visionary hand. “Chelsea Centaur, 214 Ogrebee lane. Her mother says she’s a looker.” The hunchback patted him encouragingly on the shoulder and shuffled back to his bedroll. With a grumbling sigh and a few choice curse words, Visionary turned over and curled up alone with his rock. |
| Echo™ v3.0 beta © 2003-2006 Powermad Software |
|
|