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Post By Visionary Sat May 13, 2006 at 04:08:18 pm EDT |
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The Fellowship: The quest to recover Naari continues! | |
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Part Two: “You need to cheer up, sir.” Visionary blinked, looking up from a book of Hans Christian Anderson tales to find Fleabot and Quoth standing over him. “What?” “You’ve moped enough” Quoth stated, crossing her arms in front of her human disguise. “I know it’s frustrating that you can’t call on the cavalry to ride in and rescue Naari, but approaching this quest with an air of tragedy is asking for trouble.” Visionary frowned. “I’m not moping! My daughter’s been kidnapped by a revenge-crazed fairy witch… I’m appropriately solemn, is all.” He flipped a few pages in the book. “Plus, have you read this stuff? There’s no singing crabs, no roles for Buddy Hackett to play… It’s all daggers in the feet, and dissolving into sea foam. It’s not exactly peppy reading material… and I don’t even want to discuss what happened to that poor match girl...” He scowled at the book. “What kind of sick, twisted people would tell these tales to wide-eyed children?” “The Danish kind” Fleabot offered. Visionary shook his head. “And to think they gave us such lovely pastries.” “Yes, well…” Quoth tried to get things back on track. “The point being, you can’t go into this quest dragging such darkness along with you. The Mythlands, especially Faerie, were primordial planes of the greater narrative, and they remain raw and half-formed. Nothing there is set in stone …” “…Aside from a sword or two” Fleabot interjected helpfully. Quoth rolled her eyes. “Yes… aside from swords. What I’m trying to say is that Faerie is to some degree psycho-reactive in narrative structure. If you go there expecting tragedy, it’s more likely that tragic narrative threads will be drawn to you.” “Wait… what?” “Wishing upon a star, dreaming your prince will come, asking the wrong questions of a magic mirror… it’s all a kind of psycho-reactive triggering device. The primordial narrative threads of the Mythlands are desperate to latch onto a storyline… some have even taken on sentience over time and become powerful mythic creatures. They’re mostly quite annoyingly romantic and overblown, sir… ” Visionary glanced from her to Fleabot worriedly. “So if I go in fearing the worst, then bad things will be drawn to me?” “Yes… but that’s a bit of inside Chronicler information, so please don’t go spreading it around, sir.” “So… what do I do? I don’t think I can stop worrying about Naari… I’m pretty sure I’m just going to worry more now!” “Worrying is fine…” Fleabot assured him. “But you have to keep yourself focused on the happily ever after.” “Indeed” agreed. “In fact, vocalize your wishes to see Naari returned safely often when you get there… and don’t shy away from fairy tale conventions. Fleabot will be going, so you’ll have an adequate sidekick…” “Yeah, I’ll… Hey!” the tiny robot complained. “I think I object to both “adequate” and “sidekick”…” “And if you should feel the urge to break into song at any point, sir… well, it couldn’t hurt.” “Wait…” Fleabot noted hastily. “Singing? Have you heard him sing? Am I getting hazard pay for this mission?” Quoth shot him a stern look. “That goes for you too. We might not be able to provide Buddy Hackett, but a singing flea should keep things from tilting too far into “knives-in-the-feet and sea foam” territory.” “You’re not coming along either then?” Visionary noted with disappointment. “Er… not that I think you sound like Buddy Hackett…” “Thank you. I’m afraid, as a Raven of Destiny, I’d make far too big a ripple in the fabric of the Mythlands. But I do have one other bit of advice I can offer in assistance…” “Her?” Hallie yelped incredulously. “In our darkest hour, you want us to turn to her? The backstabbing little…” “Not that I don’t appreciate the ventriloquist act…” the woman behind the counter began uneasily, looking over the single woman in the reception area. “But do you have any bundles of clothing you’d like to throw your voice into? Something to wash, maybe?” There was a flicker, and the glowing green image of a woman formed from a tiny, bee-size emitter that was floating unseen next to the swanmay. “Ruby” the hologram spat, greeting the ex-Legion staffer with palpable disdain. “H-Hallie?” the counter girl at Mr. Lye’s Wash-House gasped in shock. “I didn’t… I never… What are you doing here?” “She needs to find some help.” Cleone summed up succinctly. “Her child has been stolen away to the Faerie Realms” “She… what? Child?” Ruby blinked, trying to regain her composure as she ran her hand through her hair, damp from the sweat and the steam of the inner workings of the Laundry. “She…she needs my help?” “Like hell I do!” Hallie growled. “What can a traitorous, lying little witch do for us?” “She is related, albeit distantly, to rather big witches Whitney and Hagatha Darkness” Cleone noted. “And as such she has some low-level abilities of her own, though they’ve never properly come into focus. More predominantly, however, she has managed to make friends in her new life. Both aspects could be valuable in the Mythlands.” “And why should we trust her?” the Lair’s AI asked coldly. “Because…” Cleone noted, looking deep into the heart of the girl behind the counter. “She wants, more than anything, to make amends.” Hallie paused, knowing her friend’s gifts for seeing through to the heart of the matter. “She does?” “I do?” the laundry girl whispered with a dry mouth, caught in the swanmay’s gaze. “Ruby, who did you say dropped off the…” began a large, roughly handsome man as he pushed through the door behind the counter with a creak. He stopped suddenly and eyed the collection of unusually tense women in the front warily. “Ah… What’s all this, then?” “Smash it” Quoth ordered. “Whoa… first we’re to think happy thoughts…” Fleabot noted with concern. “And now you want us to go breaking Vizh’s bathroom mirror? Kind of mixed mojo there, isn’t it? Not that I’m superstitious, but still… I’ve seen too many villains use the “nothing can stop me now” line to totally write off that kind of thing.” Visionary considered the old mirror in the downstairs bathroom at the base of the lighthouse. “Are you sure about this?” “Please, just trust me on this one…” the former raven urged impatiently. “All right” Fleabot sighed. “Maybe bad luck time is served concurrently, in which case you’ve already got more than seven years lined up anyway.” Shrugging, Visionary hefted a plunger from behind the toilet and rapped the glass with the wooden handle hard enough to splinter cracks through his reflection. “Harder” Quoth advised. “We need a few good sized shards.” Visionary hit the mirror again and the glass gave way and fell out of its frame, shattering into the sink and onto the floor. The Regular gingerly retrieved three roughly five inch shards and held them out for the Raven’s inspection. “Those will do” she approved. “Now, tilt one so that the reflective side is pointing upwards.” He did so and was observing his confused reflection looking back up at him when suddenly they emitted a blinding green light. “Gah!” It swept through the reflection and left him blinking to chase the red spots from his vision. “What on earth was that?” “On Earth is the whole point.” Quoth answered smugly. “That was the beacon light, sweeping the coastline above us. No matter where you go in reality, no matter how far away, or how much may stand between you and it, these shards are part of the Lighthouse and will always reflect back the light of the tower. You can use them to find your way back home… even from the realms of Faerie.” She looked around the interior fondly. “This isn’t exactly your average Lighthouse after all.” “Yes… the Doom Gerbil clued me in to that” Visionary admitted, observing the light in the reflection with wonder. “The light will really reach into Faerie?” She nodded. “Home is never too far away…” she promised them. “Don’t you go forgetting that.” George Gedney padded to his front door grumbling about visitors at such ungodly hours of the night. He had to open the museum early tomorrow morning in order to catalog a collection of what may have been Blackbeard’s scrimshaw inlaid teaspoon set… Or more likely something that Mrs. Feldergast had unearthed in her attic during spring cleaning. Still, her story that she “sort of” remembered her great-grandfather making such claims was worth a bit of time investigating the issue, as it would be quite a coup for the museum with the summer tourist season coming up. With children all excited about that pirate movie franchise this summer, surely many would be begging their parents to come and see such a fine collection of spoons! Yes, well worth his time... Provided he was allowed to get some sleep, that is, and not dragged out of bed in his nightshirt because of… “Asil!” he noted in surprise as he opened the door. “I... ah, wasn’t expecting you.” “Yes, well… that would be the best explanation for the lack of pants” the clone girl replied with a blush. “Not that your knees aren’t cute, but you had better hurry and put some on… I think they’ll be leaving tonight and we don’t want to be left behind.” “Leaving? Who’s leaving? Wait… where are we going?” He blinked in confusion. “You think my knees are cute?” “You have the Chronometer?” she asked intently. He clutched the breast pocket of his nightshirt where he habitually put the timepiece every night as he prepared for bed. “Good. The Mythlands aren’t in perfect sync with the world here… We don’t want to get swept away in time and come back too late. You may have to navigate.” “Navigate? Are there boats involved? Only I tend to get terribly seasick…” he argued as she herded him towards the stairs to his room. “Wait… What’s going on? I can’t go anywhere… I have spoons!” “Oh! Well…” she paused, concerned. “I prepared a list of responses for almost any argument, but I didn’t think to have one for… spoons.” She began twisting her hands with nervous energy. “It’s just… Visionary is leaving to rescue Naari tonight, and he’s not asking anyone from the mansion to go with him because of the big plan!” “Plan?” George asked, but a look at the obviously agitated girl got him back on topic. “But he asked you?” “Of course not…” Asil replied, setting her jaw. “But I didn’t put up with Mumphrey trying to leave me behind, and I’m certainly not going to put up with it from Visionary either.” He took in her determined and earnest face. “If I go put some pants on, will you promise to tell me what is going on?” “Deal.” She nodded solemnly, then added quietly as he padded up his stairs “Eventually.” “I guess that’s it then…” Visionary stated, looking back down the beach towards the lights of the mansion. The beam from the Lighthouse swept through the crisp night air above them, circling round towards Parodiopolis and then back out to sea. “Think they’ll be mad when they wake up and find we’ve already gone?” “Yep” Fleabot assured him. “Glad we’re ducking out so we don’t have to explain this to Lisa face to face?” “Yep” Visionary admitted. He watched as a misshapen figure trundled down the sand dunes from the great house, lugging a gunny sack over his humped shoulders. “Flapjack” he greeted the butler and guide. “What’s with the bag?” “Oh, just a few provisions, that’s all…” he leered in reply. “Where’s yours?” “My… what?” “Ah! The adventurous type! Now there’s a man who takes his quests seriously” he nodded in approval, nudging Quoth in the ribs. “Be killing and eating your dinner each night then?” The Regular blinked. “What? Um… I packed a lunch.” He held up the bag for all to see. “Good traveling food. It’s got some beef jerky in there, and, um… a juice box. Plus some high protein trail mix for snacking.” “I think that’s just “Chex Mix”, actually” Fleabot corrected helpfully. “Right… um… Isn’t there much chance of living off the land once we get there?” “No problem” the butler assured them. “I make an excellent haunch of bugbear… Sprinkled with a little rosemary, it’s an old family recipe, you’ll love it.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “The secret ingredient is a baste made from the eggsack.” Visionary looked queasy. “I was thinking more of berries and vegetables and such…” Flapjack let out a low whistle, then shrugged. “Fair enough… be getting some good combat practice in that way first. Don’t worry… The tangle vines usually give up the fight after you cut away seventy or eighty percent of ‘em, and they can only fire those poisonous thorns maybe twenty, thirty feet tops.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “Now, if I can only recall… are the throat swelling choke berries yellow with red spots, or red with yellow spots?” The Manga Shoggoth unfolded on the beach, and Miiri stepped out to join the others, wrapped in a red velvet hooded cloak. “Hallie and the others have gone on ahead. Are we ready?” she asked eagerly. “Others?” Fleabot asked. Visionary looked back towards his lighthouse longingly. “I think maybe there’s some baloney in the back of the fridge…” “Relax” Flapjack assured him. “Cave rat season just opened… That’s good campfire eating.” He patted the regular on the back. “Your bigger worry will be avoiding using the wrong kind of leaves for toilet paper.” “Poison ivy?” “Yeah, that’d be bad too” the butler agreed as the Shoggoth swelled up to engulf them. “But it’s the burrowing ivy you really want to watch out for… especially when the spores take hold and begin their explosive growth stage…” “Feel like singing yet?” Fleabot asked before they blinked away from the shores of the island. The starry night sky above them was beginning to recede to the glow of the coming dawn in the east when they unfolded into discernable reality again. Rolling hills descended towards a manor house, while a glade overgrew some kind of ancient stone structure not far away. “Is… is this it?” Visionary asked when his mind stopped screaming. “Is this Faerie?” “Shropshire” the Shoggoth replied. “Wendell’s Hallow… One of the Wilton estates. The atrophied gateway here will serve as a quiet back door to the Many Coloured Lands.” He nodded towards a group making their way up from the house below. “Here comes the rest of your party now.” Visionary looked to the group when, with a flicker, Hallie’s form materialized from one of her Holographic Emitter Drones. “This wasn’t my idea” she declared as preamble. “Er… what?” “Cleone says they’ll all be a big help, and I trust her” she continued. “But it wasn’t my idea.” “We’re ready to go, Visionary!” a familiar voice called out from one of the party approaching, dragging a lean figure behind her. “Asil? And, um…” “George. George Gedney” the young man introduced himself. “We’ve met once or twice, but I gather you’ve been a bit, ah… distracted… of… late.” He trailed off slowly as Miiri stepped forward to embrace Hallie, tantalizing glimpses of green skin and a shining chainmail bikini flashing from underneath her cloak. He swallowed thickly and blushed. “Understandable. Er… I mean, um… with all that’s been uncovered… That is, about the abduction… not...” “Right, so on the plus side, while we don’t get to take along the Ausgardian god with his enchanted bat” Fleabot shook his head, “…but we do get Hugh Grant without the charming accent. Yeah, that seems about right. Although if we’re going to the land of the Fey, I suppose in comparison he might seem… URK!” he observed just before Asil’s foot ground him into the turf. “It’s best that you keep positive feelings for the journey ahead…” Cleone advised, leading the rest of the group up to them. “That’s what I keep telling them…” Quoth grumbled. “But keeping mortals emotionally focused is like herding cats.” Hallie sighed. “Right, on that note… Vizh, you remember Ruby?” The red-haired woman stepped tentatively into the gathering. “Ruby? Ruby Weaver?” the Regular blinked in shock. “Ruby--author of a tell-all book of lies slamming the Legion and dragging our names through the muck--Weaver?” “That book of hers must have had a long spine” Flapjack noted. “Vizh” she greeted him awkwardly. “How’ve you been?” He set his jaw. “Oh, living down allegations that I’m some kind of super pervert unfit to be a parent or guardian. You?” She looked at the ground. “I admitted publicly that they were false allegations…” “Yeah, and his slave girls have tried explaining things to the press over and over…” Flapjack added. “Go figure.” “Look…” a large man grumbled from behind her. “If you don’t want our help, we can just be on our way.” Visionary eyed him warily. “And you are?” “With her” he stated levelly. “Tanner…” she pleaded with him, laying a consoling hand on his arm. “Look, Vizh… I know I’ve been a brat in the past, and I’ve caused the Legion more trouble than I’m worth, but I really want to make amends. Give us a chance… please.” Visionary bit off his first reply and sighed instead. “All right, considering the bigger scheme of things going on now, what you did was borderline forgivable in comparison” he acknowledged. “I could have worse traveling companions… and I do need all the help I can get.” “Ah! Now that’d be my cue…” a smug figure announced, stepping into the gathering. “This one wasn’t my idea” Cleone assured the rest of them. “Johnstantine?!” Visionary choked. “Happy thoughts… Happy thoughts…” Quoth whispered under her breath. “Shep rang my bell looking for a little help” the Brittish occult expert explained. “Then afterwards, once she found her knickers, she got around to mentioning the bit of trouble you found yourself in, and asked if I might help you lot out.” He smiled as he hung an arm around Hallie and Miiri each. “And when there’s a Shepherdson woman in distress, I’m always willing to lend a hand or two… even for the wee ones.” The Regular scowled. “You can take your hands and…”  "We are honored to have the help of all of you…” Miiri interrupted before Visionary could finish his reply. “Our daughter is the victim of a cruel plot, and I cannot bear to think of her held captive, awaiting freedom.” She strode towards the ancient gate, her cloak billowing out behind her. The first rays of dawn’s light broke over the horizon and lit her as she turned back towards the rest of them, chain mail gleaming over emerald skin. “Whatever our minor differences, Naari needs us… and we’re all she has.” “Now I’m feeling the happy thoughts” Johnstantine breathed appreciatively. “It’s practically like Christmas.” Ruby raised an eyebrow. “Because she’s red and green?” The Heckblazer shrugged. “If you like.” “Right” Visionary replied, setting his jaw. “Let’s get on with it.” Cleone opened the gate, and sunlight poured in from the west as well, from a land unseen on the other side. “Farewell, all of you… You have the strength and fortitude to see this quest through.” She nodded as she met Hallie’s eyes. “I look forward to your return, and to meeting your daughter.” “It sounds so beautiful and peaceful…” Asil noted as she approached the glow, overhearing the noises of birds singing and frogs croaking happy from the Many Coloured Lands. “Oh, it is” Flapjack nodded. “Provided we don’t wander into a Kobold encampment and end up roasting over spits.” Quoth fretted as she, Cleone and the Shoggoth watched them enter the gate. “Positive thoughts everyone… Keep to positive thoughts.” “Johnstantine on a spit is a positive thought.” Tanner growled. “Okay…” admitted Visionary, “...him I like.” He paused as the others of the rescue party stepped through the gate, and a premonition struck him with alarming clarity… Things would be forever changed if… no, when they returned. He thought of Lisa and Dancer, Donar and Yo, Mumphrey, Enty, Jay… the list went on and on. “Good luck” he wished them all silently. Then he thought of Naari, took a deep breath, and stepped into the next world. to be continued... |
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