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Post By The Hooded Hood concludes the end of the LL tale that was conceived as a trilogy back at #104 Fri Dec 31, 2004 at 07:34:34 pm EST |
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#201: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: And Evermore Shall Be So, or the Season of Murder | |
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| #201: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: And Evermore Shall Be So, or The Season of Murder What Has Gone Before: Gathered at Wilton Manor for Christmas, and to decide whether there is a future for the Lair Legion, our heroes’ holiday has been shattered by murder. Little does the Legion know that they are the subject of a wager between Xander the Improbable and the demonic Sage Grimpenghast to determine the fate of the legacy of the fallen Dead Hell-Lords. Those needing a cast refresher are referred to the Guest List, or to the Who's Who in the Parodyverse The multitude of tie-in stories detailing additional scenes and background are linked here.  I'll sing you twelve, O Green grow the rushes, O What are your twelve, O? Twelve for the twelve Apostles , Eleven for the eleven who went to heaven, Ten for the ten commandments, Nine for the nine bright shiners, Eight for the eight bold rangers, Seven for the seven stars in the sky Six for the six proud walkers, Five for the symbols at your door, Four for the Gospel makers, Three, three, the rivals, Two, two, lily-white boys, Clothed all in green, O One is one and all alone And evermore shall be so. Traditional Folk Carol “Visionary!” The possibly fake man was jerked from a guilty dream as Asil Ashling flung open his door and hurled herself onto his bed. “Wha? Whassit? What’s going on!” Her next words jerked the legionnaire completely awake. “Sir Mumphrey’s been murdered!” The corpse lay slumped over the writing desk in Sir Mumphrey Wilton’s study. The blade that slew him had penetrated from behind as he leaned over his paperwork, and had sliced clean through a rib to penetrate the heart. And the murder weapon was Knifey. Vizh took one look at the murder scene and turned back to Asil. “Get Hatty, Lisa, Enty, Yo, and Al B. right now,” he told her. “Oh, and I guess Epitome.” Lisa looked up crossly as Asil slammed her door open. “You have to come!” the girl told the first lady of the Lair Legion. Lisa glanced to the other side of her rumpled bed, but there was only a few traces of stable straw to confirm her clone’s accusation. “It’s Mumphrey,” Asil blurted. “Actually no, this was one of the…” “He’s been murdered!” The noise outside woke Trickshot enough for him to realise how much his headache was pounding. “Blaargh!” he moaned, and rolled over. One arm flopped over the naked woman beside him, and that jerked him to consciousness despite the splitting head. It woke his companion as well. “Oh crap,” said Trickshot and Lisette in unison. “There’s something off going on,” Ebony of Nubilia told the Manga Shoggoth as she woke him from being not dead but eternally lying. “I can’t access my onsen. There’s something wrong with the dimensions. I mean wrong in ways other than the usual ones.” The Shoggoth bubbled out of the bathtub he’d been relaxing in and extended his senses beyond the boundaries of weak human knowledge. “We’ve been hijacked,” he noted. “Old, complex stuff, by the feel of it. We’re cut off from the world, from all the worlds.” “What’s going on?” Ebony worried. “What’s going on?” the Baroness demanded, hurling open her bedroom door. “Unless this noise is Santa delivering me world conquest in a shiny box there’d better be…” “Sir Mumphrey Wilton’s been found dead,” CrazySugarFreakboy! told her. “And if I find you had anything to do with it…!” Keiko slid up the sash and prepared to slide out onto the grounds. She was surprised when her shoulder was grabbed in a steely fist. “Going somewhere?” asked Yuki Shiro, still clad in a pink nightshirt with an embroidered teddy on it. “Outside,” Keiko answered, squirming her shoulder out of the cyborg’s grip. “There’s been a murder.” “Yes. Which is why I was looking to see who decided to depart,” Yuki pointed out. “Which is why I wanted to check to tracks before new snow obliterates them,” shot back the Garden City assassin. Hatman dragged on his deerstalker and his eyes narrowed with brilliance. “Everybody keep out of the crime scene while Harper, Epitome and I investigate,” he told the crowd gathering at the door. “Everyone to the breakfast room,” Lisa called out. “And I mean everyone. Gather the troops, get the servants, let’s check everyone else is okay.” Yo looked at the body and at the weapon protruding from it. “And somebody be to be finding of ManMan!” “Well?” insisted Sorceress of her grandmother, “What’s going on?” Hagatha met Whitney’s stare with one of her own. “Mumphrey elected to call upon the ancient powers of Yule. He knew the risks.” “You knew the risks and you helped him, didn’t you? That Pelznichol character, what was he? An avatar personification? You knew Mumphrey was calling something up.” “I knew he was risking everything to try and heal his fellowship of heroes,” the old witch replied. “But sometimes the old powers demand a kingly sacrifice.” “How can you be so indifferent?” Sorceress demanded. “Mumphrey was once your lover, the father of your child!” “That was long ago,” Hagatha replied; and her face didn’t change until Whitney Darkness had stormed away.” “Okay, out of bed and assume the position!” Falcon shouted as he kicked in ManMan’s door. Joe Pepper blinked in surprise. “What?” “You heard! Move, before I break your ass!” “Sorry, you’re not my type. And I expect chocolates and dinner before I assume any positions whatsoever.” “You have to come with us, ManMan,” Pigeon told him, slipping past the angry Sam Wilson and tossing Joe Pepper a robe. “There’s been a murder, and Knifey was the weapon.” “Nobody told me this was a murder mystery weekend,” complained Trudi Wooster as she and her sister were dragged from their bed by a grim-looking Hallie. “I was thinking more skiing and apres-ski.” “Life sucks, doesn’t it?” said Hallie fiercely. “You don’t need to check this with me,” Nats told Shazana Pel as they glided away from the snowbound manor. “I deliver messages all the time.” “There has been an unexplained assault upon your war-leader,” the Thonnagarian pointed out. “You do not yet have sufficient intelligence to know the nature of your enemy’s strategy. Hence it makes sense to send two scouts out to seek reinforcements. There may be ambushers in prepared positions anticipating your flight.” Nats saw something strange up ahead. “Wait, look there!” he frowned. Up ahead of them was Wilton Manor. “I think we’ve got almost everybody now,” spiffy called across to Goldeneyed and De Brown Streak. “Nobody’s seen dull thud since before dinner last night. And all the servants have vanished except for Flapjack.” “Which means I get overtime,” pointed out the disgusting hunchback. “What’s going on?” demanded Kerry Shepherdson, hands on hips. “They’re saying Sir Mumphrey’s been stabbed.” “He has been stabbed,” Goldeneyed said grimly. “And one of us gathered here is a murderer.” “Right, what’s happening?” Dancer demanded. “And how did you cause it?” “Me?” Con Johnstantine ran a hand to smooth down his spiky blonde hair. “I don’t have anything to do with this, darlin’. I just came for the free booze and the sex.” He grinned at Sarah Shepherdson. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t have an alibi for last night, is it?” “It was a moment of weakness,” Dancer told him, flushing. “Several moments of weakness. But I don’t trust you.” Johnstantine dragged on his trenchcoat and lit a cigarette. “Well let’s see. We’ve been dragged out of the mundane world into some magical pocket dimension. That was probably started by Mumph calling on the Faeries to help him do the Christmas pantomime and remind all you goodies why you need to be in the Lair Legion. But it looks like something’s got hold of the spell and cranked it up a magnitude or two.” “But who? Why?” Johnstantine shrugged. “The Grinch?” he suggested. “I don’t know,” Tricia told the heroes surrounding her. She was close to tears. “I’m Temporary Death, or I was and might be again later. But that killing’s not Temporary. I can’t find Sir Mumphrey anywhere in my realm. He’s not coming back, ever, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” “No power coming from outside the estate,” Amy Aston confirmed as she checked the fuse boxes by candlelight. “No phones, no broadcast transmissions, nothing.” “We’re trapped in a transient interstitial bubble based upon ab-finite point vortices,” Miss Framlicker noted. “It’s probably Al Harper’s fault.” “He won’t talk to us,” Hatman told Desert Rose. “Hasn’t said a word since we found him, but Hagatha has confirmed he’s the real Knifey. ManMan claims he put Knifey on his night-stand before he went to sleep and that’s all he knows. We were hoping your, um, your talking scimitar could get some sense out of a talking dagger.” “Knifey and I go way back,” Areei agreed, glinting in the crisp winter sunlight. “I knew him even before he arranged for me to being forged.” But Knifey said nothing. “This sucks!” complained Nitz the Bloody. “I only accepted the invite to come here because Zach and Tricia want a lovey-dovey sweet private Christmas together wrapped round each other under the mistletoe. I didn’t expect to get attacked by the ghost of Agatha Christie.” “Well feel my pain,” argued Fashion Accessory. “You know how limiting it is to have to wear nothing but black in a house of mourning?” “I’m freaking here, Dream,” April Apple told her boyfriend. “All of you guys do this weird stuff three times a day, but it’s my first time in a cursed murder mansion.” “Don’t worry,” CSFB! assured her. “We’ll sort it out. And I’m dying to see how Mumph gets out of this one by the end of the story.” That didn’t reassure April as much as he thought it might, but he bustled off to get on with the villain-hunt. April sighed. “Why am I even here?” “Cause he’s hard to get out of your system?” a voice suggested. “And he’s cute as hell.” CSFB!’s girlfriend hadn’t realised there was anyone else in the drawing room, but now she saw a young thin girl with short dark hair watching her from the window seat. It wasn’t anyone she’d seen before, but there were so many guests. “You… know Dream?” April ventured. “We used to date a long time back. Hi. I’m Izzy.” April wasn’t sure how to react to that. “April,” she answered. “I figured that if you’re in for the long haul with Dream you probably need a look at the handbook,” Izzy suggested. “He seems to be very happy with you.” “He’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” April admitted. “But he’s complicated, and I’m on a steep learning curve.” “Well, since we’re in something of a special state right now here in the old manor, and if you’ve got a couple of hours to spare, there’s some stuff that you need to know,” Izzy Shapiro told her. “Please.” April sat down opposite the girl she had no idea was Dream’s dead lost love and the two of them began their heart-to-heart. Glory carefully nosed the whole of the carpet, then the landing outside. “It’d difficult because of all the people who’ve been clustered around the door,” the mutt of might signalled to her partner Epitome, “but the only scents in this room are Asil, Visionary, NTU-150, Al B. Harper, Hatman, you and me. For some reason Hatman smells of shag tobacco. And there’s Mumphrey himself, of course.” “So either our assailant left no scent – maybe flying?” speculated the paragon of power, “Or it was one of the people you mentioned,”. “No really,” Donar assured Visionary. “Those are the tracks of a pack of gjarlenwolves from Needsmitingheim. I recognise them for I hast slain many in the past forasmuch as they hath looked at me funny.” “It’s true, hoary mentor,” Harlagaz agreed. “I didst have one as a throw rug ‘pon mine cot. Definitely gjarlenwolves. Or mayhap frothing snarlenbeasts.” “Frothing snarlenbeasts wouldst have more serrated claws,” Donar pointed out, examining the strange tracks that Yuki and Keiko had discovered on the patio. “But mayhap they art winter ab-rendghouls?” “This is Shropshire, England,” pointed out Ham-Boy. “It’s not known for it’s ab-rendghouls.” “This wast Shropshire, England,” Donar pointed out. “Now ‘tis somewhat else. Let the ab-rendghoul or gjarlenwolf hunting begin for the nonce. But probably not the frothing snarlenbeast hunting, for lack of serrated claws.” “Be careful,” Vizh advised the hunters. “And try not to get Ham-Boy eaten.” “Nay, tis great honour to be the bait in an Ausgardian hunting party,” Harlagaz assured his teacher. “Hmm,” considered the possibly fake man. “Would you like to honour Hacker Nine as well then?” “Lead on, brave Hound-dog,” called Donar. “Let your keen senses and intelligence be our guide.” “I’ve tabulated the movements of the people here as best I can,” the Librarian reported to Lisa and Enty. “All except thud and Cressida, who by Nats’ account left the site before the incidents began. Unless Nats is the murderer, driven insane by the loss of Princess Uhunalura, and has already claimed them as his first victims. And those two odd gatecrashers were gone by the time the manor was interdicted too.” “Very… thorough,” Lisa complimented Lee Bookman. “And in a very neat table, I see.” “So Mumph retired upstairs around midnight and seems to have been murdered not long after,” NTU-150 noted. “And here are the people who claim to have an alibi.” He checked the Librarian’s notes: * CrazySugarFreakBoy & April A. Apple – having “hot monkey sex all night long” * Dancer & Con Johnstantine – Dancer claims he seduced her using demonic wiles * De Brown Streak – spent the night with Odoona and Luuma “coaching them” on how to make Visionary happy * Falcon & Pigeon – took midnight flight and returned around 1.30am, slept together * Manga Shoggoth (main biomass) – dormant in Ebony of Nubilia’s amulet Manga Shoggoth (secondary biomass) – claims to have been eternally lying in Ebony’s bathroom * Mr Epitome – Glory slept at the foot of his bed and offers him an alibi * Al B. Harper – shared room with Yuki Shiro * Yo – shared room with Asil, but was absent around 1.20 - 2.15am “making of snow angels” * spiffy & Beverly J. Campbell – moonlight stroll in garden till 1am, together until morning * Trickshot & Laurie Leyton – became inebriated and retired around 11.30pm, woke up together this morning * Lisa L. Waltz – claims to have had liaison with “beefy” stable hand (now missing) * Trudi & Jenni Wooster – claim to have shared a bed for the night (but CSFB! demands further questioning on this) * Deela, Sayaana, Philaana, Noona, Losiira, and Kaara – shared a room * Miiri – shared Caphan dormitory but left around 1pm to apologise to Vizh, gone for around half an hour “Very very through,” Lisa commented. “Not really,” the Librarian answered. “I omitted the appendix where Mr Foxglove and Ms Apple describe in graphic detail what this aforesaid monkey love involved, but apparently the account will be posted on their internet bulletin board site once we have returned to normalcy. And I also excluded the transcript of the bickering between Dancer and Johnstantine regarding who dragged whom into the laundry and what occurred thereafter.” “We can probably leave verifying those reports until, well never,” blushed Enty. “But we’re not much closer to finding the killer,” Lee Bookman fretted. “No, but still, this is fascinating,” said Lisa, carefully folding the list away for later. “I hate magic,” Jay Boaz told Hagatha Darkness. “I don’t trust it. I don’t trust you.” “Very wise,” the old witch agreed. “I’m not very comfortable with all this old Christmas trapping stuff. It doesn’t seem very Christian to me and that’s what Christmas is all about really. You want a king who dies to save his people from death, we got one right there. Birth, life, death, rebirth, joy to the world. The rest of this seems more like the dark stuff proper Christmas replaced.” “Say rather it is the dark loam from which your blossom bloomed,” suggested Hagatha. “Say you stop playing me and tell me what the heck’s going on?” suggested Jay Boaz. The old witch looked the capped crusader up and down. “I like you a little better since you spent those centuries in Faerie,” she admitted. “You seem to have grown a backbone. I could almost believe you might claim your future and become something.” “I’m just not frightened of you any more,” Hatman told her. “Or of what you think of me.” “Maybe that’s why I find you marginally tolerable now, Jay Boaz,” Hagatha declared. “And why you’re still in your current shape.” “Yo probably figured if s/he teamed us up to search the mansion we’d be able to put aside our differences and form an odd-couple buddy relationship through trading quips and facing dangers together,” Falcon suggested. “I’d guess so,” agreed De Brown Streak, zooming to cover the third floor at super-speed and getting back before the SPUD agent had finished his sentence. “That’s about the only reason she’d bother assigning a loser like you to be helping me out.” “It was only business,” Sam Wilson told the mutate. “You were on the Most Wanted List, I work for a law enforcement agency. So I called in for you to be arrested. It wasn’t personal.” “So it’s not because I entered your photo and e-mail address for Mr Gay America?” DBS checked. “Oh wait, I did that yesterday.” “You’re pretty funny for an opportunistic showboating troublemaker terrorist. But you know jack about being a superhero. All you just did was prove there wasn’t an ambush in these rooms by not dying, and that’s not really the smart way to check for traps.” “If I know jack what does that say about the G-men that couldn’t catch me, birdie?” “On second thoughts, just keep on checking rooms your way.” “Yo is not saying you are to be being guilty,” Yo assured the Baroness, “but if you are to be being guilty it would be to be being good to be telling of us before my uncute-partnering loses his temper.” “Right,” agreed spiffy, frowning. “I don’t have time for this crap. You know what this fern can do if I let it off the leash?” “Shed on the carpet?” suggested Elizabeth von Zemo. “Really, this is the most puerile interrogation I’ve ever seen.” “That does it!” acted spiffy. “Let me at her! Let me at her!” “No, uncute-spiffing one! You must not to be hurting of possibly-uncute new von Zemoing! Oh please possibly-uncute new Zemoing, be telling of me what is you have been doing while I can still be controlling of my wild partnering!” “I’d do the Sharon Stone thing only it would be wasted on you two,” the Baroness sighed. “Look, I had no reason to wish Sir Mumphrey dead yet.” “Except for the initials V-Z at the end of your name!” Mark Hopkins accused. “Your uncle hated Mumph, and I’ve never yet met a Zemo I didn’t want to pummel!” “I can’t help you with your anger management issues,” the Baroness pointed out. “You attacked CrazySugarFreakboy! and Hatman!” spiffy went on. “They provoked me,” Beth explained. “Like you’re provoking me.” “We are just being a little suspiciousing of you,” Yo explained to the newest scion of the house of von Zemo. “You are pretending to be cute-Visi’s neighbour, then you are dating of cute-DBS, then…” “Look, if you want motive you need to hunt closer to home,” the Baroness argued. “Lisa, for example. She split with Mumphrey last night. Bad feelings? Recriminations? Blackmail? And you only have her word for the stable lad.” “But it does seem pretty likely,” spiffy admitted. “Mr Epitome, working for the OPS to undermine the Lair Legion. He’d never get his way with your organisation while Mumphrey was in the big chair. Falcon, disgruntled with the team, blaming your leader for the failures of the Hellraisers campaign. Goldeneyed, turning out to be Blackhearted after all. Nats, driven insane by the loss of Uhuna. More insane, I mean. The Sorceress, seeking to end the spell your host has apparently had cast upon us “for our own good”. Asil Ashling, jealous of Lisa. Temporary Death, wanting a quick fix. Ebony of Nubilia, sacrificing to the Manga Shoggoth.” She glanced venomously across the hall to where most of the guests were clustered. “Shazana Pel, deep cover agent for Ancient Shadara of the Thonnagarian High Command.” “You are being remarkably well informed for a newbie,” Yo observed. “That’s because you’re not the first people I’ve had this discussion with,” the Baroness pointed out. “You’re not the only people asking questions, you know.” “Who else?” spiffy demanded. “I am,” said the Hooded Hood. “Best we can tell, we’re in some kind of narrative pocket,” Al B. Harper briefed the Legion. “The Shoggoth says it was originally set up when those mummers, er, mummed last night, to give us an understanding, a Christmas revelation.” “Kind of like A Wonderful Life but with Johnstantine playing a very sleazy angel,” suggested Dancer. “But that’s been taken over by something else, something nastier,” Al B. continued. “Now we can’t break out of here until some condition has been met, but we don’t know what.” “Head away from the manor in any direction and you’ll end up heading straight back here,” Enty reported. “It’s like a particularly cunning department store.” “Who’s behind this then?” Hatman demanded. “Wang? The Apostate? The Parody Master?” “I think it’s Xander,” revealed the Sorceress. “Xander?” Dancer puzzled. “But he’s on our side.” “Are you sure?” asked Falcon sceptically. “When we were trying to keep all these scavenging demons from absorbing the mystic potential freed up as Mefrothto and his buddies were wiped out, Xander made some kind of wager with a demon called Sage Grimpenghast,” Whitney recalled. “He didn’t tell us what they were betting on; but I’m betting it has something to do with what’s happening now.” “Xander betrayed us?” CSFB! objected. “I’m sure he thought it was for our own good,” scowled Lisa. “I summons Xander the Improbable! Nah, I didn’t think that would work.” “No wonder Xander didn’t turn up for the party,” Visionary noted. “But he gave me a box of his things to look after,” Dancer told them. “I brought them along to give them back to him today.” All eyes turned on her. “He did what?” Lisa said. “So we need ta talk,” Trickshot said to Laurie. “About last night,” Lisette shuddered. “Yeah. We got kind of plastered.” “And we ended up in bed together.” “Yeah. It seemed a good idea at half past tequila.” “Bry must never know, Tricky.” “Ah. You really should’a told me that when I was talking to the Librarian.” “What? You told someone?” “It’s a murder investigation, kiddo. That kind of takes priority over your complicated love life.” “You don’t understand a thing about my love life!” “Yeah, I do.” Carl Bastion turned to the leather-clad brunette. “Look, you love G-Eyed. Tell him. You want him back. Tell him. If he don’t love you he’ll tell you. Then you take the knock and you move on. If he loves you, then congratulations.” He snorted. “Just get on with it and let’s have the next chapter, please!” “Yes,” the Hooded Hood told Temporary Death. “I am most grateful for your assistance in this investigation. And I will indeed return to you the essence your sister of your sister Death which she requested I preserve for her back when we struck our bargain before my last resurrection, so that she can regain her existence. In the meantime…” “Hood!” called Keiko, stalking into the gun room where the cowled crime czar was in conference. “We’re going to have a talk!” “Excuse me please,” the Hood said to Tricia. “It seems that Keiko has decided to converse with me.” Temporary Death slipped out quickly. She hated rows. Keiko kicked the door shut. “Okay, first question. Why the hell haven’t the so-called heroes in this house kicked your butt and locked you in handcuffs by now?” “Prudence?” suggested the cowled crime czar. “Look, you hated Wilton. Everybody knows it. You sent me to kill him not long ago. You’re the prime suspect, and the only one here who goes around calling himself an archvillain! So I ask again, why aren’t you in custody?” “Because I gave my word that I had nothing to do with the murder,” the Hooded Hood answered. “And they bought that?” “Am I not… the Hooded Hood?” “I hate the Parodyverse,” hissed Keiko. “Anyway, what’s your word worth if you just use your words to deceive and trick people? You told me that you’d sort out the dimensional drift that was merging my world into the Parodyverse.” “As you know, I was far more specific – and honest – about the difficulties of that feat,” the Hood replied. “Anyway, I have ensured that your problem has been addressed. The worlds will not intersect.” That caught Keiko off-guard. “What?” “It required a massive amount of energy shifting through the transdimensional vortex to alter the drift currents,” the Hood replied. “Such as might be caused where a Fortress of Darkness is shattered and spins away into the narrative stream.” “I blew up the Chain Knight’s castle,” the Garden City assassin said. “Well done,” the Hooded Hood intoned. “It appears you have therefore mitigated your problem and completed your quest. I trust you feel suitably rewarded for your endeavours.” “’Twere not the gjarlenwolves that wert the challenge,” Donar told the assemblage. “But they hadst come with ravenjarls and dredgroths and three huge crappenwyrms. That wast what made it interesting.” “Interesting,” Ham-Boy shivered. “I was swallowed.” “But we didst cut thee out later, boon companion,” Harlagaz pointed out. “Does anybody know what Yo was doing last night?” Yuki Shiro asked amongst the knot of civilians huddled in the kitchen preparing a rough and ready breakfast. “You can’t suspect Yo,” Bev Campell objected. “Yo’s the very last person that’s likely to murder anyone.” “So if there was a shape-shifting villain out to murder the Lair Legion which one would he impersonate?” Yuki challenged. “Which person wouldn’t Knifey object to being carried by? Which person would Mumphrey let into his study and leave his back unguarded? And with Mumphrey dead who’s in charge of the investigation?” “Yo,” admitted Beth Shellett. “Or Asil.” “This is awful,” Hallie said to Kerry and Fashion Accessory. “First Mindy and Uhuna and Art and Randy, and now this.” “Poor Sir Mumphrey,” Samantha Bonnington agreed. “I hope it wasn’t karma.” “Karma?” Kerry responded. “What kind of LA new age crap are you on this time, FA?” “Look, we all just nearly got killed by the Hellraisers, right?” the California blonde pointed out. “The LL came out relatively unscathed, but the support crew got massacred.” Hallie blanched as she felt a twinge of survivors’ guilt. “So I’m just saying, the leader of the LL suffering some tragedy so soon after…” “Stick to the horoscopes, Sam,” Kerry advised. “I hate feeling so helpless,” Hallie admitted. “And useless. This human body is so limited. I thought it would be so great to be flesh and blood but…” “Now Pinocchio’s working out that there are some advantages of not being a real boy?” Kerry suggested. “Something like that,” grimaced Hallie. “If I was an artificial intelligence again I could check facts, project myself where I’m needed, collate forensic data…” “But could you feel the snow tickling your face?” asked Samantha. “This is Xander’s box?” Falcon asked. “He entrusted it to me before he faked his death,” Dancer answered. “Or died or whatever. I’m not really clear on that part.” “And you didn’t peek?” Vizh asked her. “Hardly ever,” Shep said defensively. “There’s just some old photographs and stuff, and his stone hamster Harry, and…” She lifted the lid and saw the shining swirling light radiating around the interior. “And the focus spell that dropped us here,” added Nitz the Bloody. The Hooded Hood asked the Librarian to gather together the guests in the house. Naturally everyone ended up assembled in the library. “Thank you for all coming here today,” the cowled crime-czar told them as Flapjack passed amongst them refreshing drinks and handing out weenies on sticks. “As you know…” “Hey, this is the famous drawing-room scene!” CSFB! suddenly realised. “The one where the great detective summarises the clues and tells us whodunit!” “Indeed,” agreed the Hood. “Now…” “How do we know he’s not the murderer?” Yuki Shiro demanded. “Because he said he wasn’t,” Dancer pointed out. “Unless he’s an evil double,” Yuki persisted. “Enough with the evil doubles!” Bev Campbell called out. “Now intoned the cowled crime czar, “I believe it is time for us to deal with the situation in which we find ourselves. Mr Boaz?” Hatman stepped up. “Sir Mumphrey retired to his study around Midnight Christmas Eve.” He reported. “His desk lamp was still on in the morning and his bed hadn’t been slept in.” “Or had been remade,” interjected Flapjack helpfully. “Or had been remade,” Jay sighed. “Our best forensic analysis suggests the murder happened between midnight and one, a right handed blow from behind using Knifey.” “I left Knifey on the table by my bed when I went to sleep about twelve-thirty,” ManMan offered. “But Knifey wouldn’t do this. He and Mumph go way back. He wouldn’t let somebody use him like this. At least he’d cry out a warning.” “Knifey’s not talking,” Lisa pointed out. “But he was the murder weapon.” “We also know there are some screwy dimensional wards on this place,” Hatman went on. “Keeping us from leaving, letting some weird monsters creep in.” “Tonight with yon traditional water buffalo we shalt be having garlicked gjarlenwolf,” Donar assured the guests. “Mashed.” “I think I’m on a diet,” warned Fashion Accessory. “Best we can figure, we’re in a closed narrative until certain conditions have been met,” Al B. Harper briefed the room. “We think the Christmas carol last night was a clue, and one of the exit conditions is that only one of us remains alive.” Hagatha nodded and watched which of the people in the room was now assessing how to eliminate all the others. She especially took note of Baroness von Zemo and Shazana Pel. “There’s also Pelznichol,” Con Johnstantine piped up. “Y’know, the fairy guy, old personification of Yule and that? Personal hygiene problem? He vanished when the masque was over and the lights went out. But I think he probably used that cover as a chance to switch places with someone. He’s probably amongst us now, plotting.” “So he’s the murderer?” asked Nitz. “A murderer,” suggested Johnstantine. “But maybe not the only one, eh?” “I’m gonna need to get more canapés,” observed Flapjack. “So this Pelznichol guy might be working for the big baddie, and he’s done a Space Phantom on somebody here?” CSFB! checked. “Or he’s a Hero Feeder,” Sorceress answered grimly. “Indeed,” agreed the Hooded Hood, sipping his brandy. “But I believe I now know the identity of the killer, and of the impostor.” “So tell us, spooky,” called out Trickshot. “Let’s go to the big unmasking scene, huh?” “The impostor,” the Hood answered, “is…” And then he slid down to the floor. “Iolobaoth!” called Lisa, rushing forward. But then she stumbled as she lost control of her own limbs. “Something’s wrong,” Dancer called as she too lost co-ordination. “Drugs!” Epitome cried as he lurched forward. “We’ve all been poisoned.” “Of course!” G-Eyed groaned as he too succumbed. “The food and drink! The butler did it!” “Damn skippy,” Flapjack told him, kicking Bry Kats in the face as he sank down. “What, you think I was just going to get over a little thing like having my heart ripped out? That I could come back without a little demonic intervention?” Most of the humans in the room were reeling helplessly on the floor by now. Even Donar and Harlagaz could be affected by giant-sized doses of the toxin; but Yo, De Brown Streak, the Shoggoth, and Yuki were still standing. “Be to be grabbing him!” Yo called. “Is not to be lonely-semi-disgusting Flapjack at all but is to be impostering in his place!” “Ooh, you got me!” the Hero Feeder admitted. “But not before I was able to spawn.” And then Bev Campbell, the Wooster Twins, Meggan Foxxx, Amy Aston, Beth Shellett, Lindy Wilson, and all nine Caphan girls grew and twisted, adding spines and horns and bone-ridges to their bodies as they swelled. “I really hope they got replaced after last night,” admitted De Brown Streak. “My first offspring slaughtered Sir Mumphrey,” Grimpenghast’s agent boasted. “And since then I’ve been quietly replacing these minor players. I’m afraid you’re somewhat outnumbered, and now you’re all going to die.” The Hooded Hood sat up. “I think not,” he replied. “You’re not poisoned?” the faux-Flapjack objected. “But your powers are exhausted, maybe gone!” “My intelligence remains intact, however. I am the Hooded Hood.” “And you’re still outnumbered,” the creature that had first impersonated Pelznichol and now looked like Flapjack boasted. Then Knifey sliced into his back, neatly bursting his heart and dropping him dead on the carpet. “Allow me to even the odds, old chap,” said Sir Mumphrey Wilton, holding the talking blade. He thumbed his temporal pocketwatch and shifted the toxins in his comrades’ systems into the future. “Lair Legion, Line Up!” The dead creature on the carpet vanished and the real Flapjack looked round in confusion. The Hero Feeders were nonplussed for a moment, and the sprang forward. “Greeting of yon season!” Donar thundered at the first of them, and smote with Mjolnir. “When you kill them the people they impersonated come back!” Al B. observed. “Take ‘em down!” “Oh yeah,” agreed Trickshot, a big grin spreading across his face. “Now this is what I call a Christmas bash!” Sir Mumphrey as he tossed Knifey over to ManMan’s waiting hand. “Hi Joe. Miss me?” the blade asked his regular wielder. You’re not dead!” Asil gasped at the eccentric Englishman. “Again,” added Miss Framlicker. “Sorry for the deception, what?” Mumph told his amanuensis. “Nasty Hero-Feeder chappie was takin’ my shape and I needed to find a way of puttin’ him down so as to lull their suspicions I was onto ‘em. Knifey was kind enough to help me out.” “That was a Hero Feeder’s body in your study?” Visionary asked, scrabbling away from a Wooster Twin that seemed even more voracious and predatory than usual. Keiko intercepted her with a neat and deadly neck-thrust. “Intended to take m’place and then lead the rest of you astray,” Mumphrey reported. “Bad show.” “The king often let a fool die in his place at the winter solstice,” Hagatha Darkness observed. “If she says traditional one more time…” seethed Hallie. “Death and rebirth and all kinds of old story stuff,” Nitz noted. He backed away from a rapidly-growing Hero Feeder and got nasty with it. “Figgypuddingeku!” “Oh yeah!” Nats agreed bitterly. “Everyone comes back except Uhuna!” He blew apart a Hero Feeder with a single glance. Laurie helped take down the Beth-monster. It felt good. “None of my preparations for understanding the human midwinter celebration explained it would be this entertaining,” Shazana Pel admitted as she clubbed another Hero Feeder into the bulk of the Manga Shoggoth. “Yo is so pleased to be seeing that everybody is to be getting along now,” beamed the happy thought being. “Absent friends,” toasted Sir Mumphrey Wilton solemnly, and everyone stood around the dinner table echoed his charge. “What about supposed friends that drop us into supernatural death traps?” asked Lisa maliciously, glaring at the newly arrived Xander. “It wasn’t his fault,” Cleone defended the sorcerer supreme. “If he hadn’t done it there’s be another Hell-Lord wandering around with all that extra evil power.” “Now Grimpenghast has been forced to cordon off the abandoned realms until some claimant comes along that meets all the agreed criteria,” Amazing Guy agreed. “I can’t see there was any other way to do it.” “All the same,” Xander told the company, “I’m sorry. It’s been a hard campaign on all of us.” “Tis naught,” boomed Donar cheerfully. “Twas a great fray. Let us moveth on, mine friends. Sing with me: On the First Day of Fimbulwinter Mine True Love Sent to Me A Direwarg in a World Tree On the Second Day of Fimbulwinter…” “You realise there art nine hundred verses of this,” Harlagaz warned the Juniors. “Yo is to be happy too,” Yo agreed, hugging Rabito then passing him to the unfortunate Nitz to hold. “Is to be everybody coming together as is should be for Lairing of Legions.” “So you’re not resigning?” Asil asked anxiously. “Yo is not to be abandoning of Yo-friends.” “Great,” Nitz agreed, standing on his chair still clutching the lop-eared purple thought bunny. “Er, that cat of Lisa’s is watching me.” “He’s a big softy really,” Lisa grinned like a shark. “Seven marching nifflings Six burning villages Five cursed rings Four maundering dwarfs Three rampaging niblungloths Two growling goats And a direwarg in a World tree…” continued Donar. “I guess I’m still in too,” admitted Dancer. “I’m not happy that I got caught and used as a hostage to endanger you all, but I’ll just do what I usually do when I blow a gig.” “Get drunk and have cheap meaningless sex then paint your toenails?” Kerry suggested. “Pick myself up and audition again,” Dancer glared at her littler sister. “And you?” Asil demanded of the Librarian. Lee Bookman shook his head in disbelief. “I have no idea why I’m agreeing to this,” he admitted, “Other than where else would I get to hear a mummer’s play and the Ausgardian Twelve Days of Christmas?” “Fifteen severed heads, fourteen sinking longboats…” “Falc?” called Trickshot. “I think we’re movin’ towards the bit where we all put out hands in a pile. You in?” Falcon glanced at Lindy and Julia. “I’m taking a break to go on a deep-cover mission with Pigeon,” he replied. “But when I get back… yeah, I’ll think about it. Somebody has to shape you guys up.” Asil looked worriedly at Visionary. “And Vizh?” she ventured. “He’s staying,” Lisa assured the group as the possibly fake man opened his mouth to speak. “I’ve seen the contract he signed. He’s not going anywhere.” “As a matter of fact I’m going to stay,” said Vizh with some dignity. “I don’t like letting my friends down either.” “Well said, that man,” approved Mumph. “Twenty-one valkyries prancing, twenty enemies rotting…” “So we can do the hand-pile thing?” CSFB! asked eagerly. “I guess,” agreed Hatman, and held out his arm. The Manga Shoggoth slapped a gooey maw atop it. “Or maybe later,” suggested Al B. “Yeah, later,” everyone agreed. “Clement, what about you?” asked Mr Epitome. “Are you really going to join the Lair Legion, or just run away again?” DBS shrugged. “Watch this space,” he said with a sly grin. “God bless us every one,” said spiffy. “And a direwarg in a World Tree,” everybody chorused. The sounds of revelry drifted up from downstairs, but that just made Bill Reed feel more alone. He pulled back his jacket, bared his wrist, and took out the stake knife he'd pocketed at dinner. He knew to make cuts along the artery to make it quick. He heard a sharp intake of breath in the darkness. Tricia, Temporary Death was hidden in the shadows, watching him with frightened eyes. “So it's true, what I felt,” she said. “You're going to die.” Looks like,” Nats told her. “Nothing left to live for.” The girl blanched. “Because of Uhunalura?” “Because of lots of things, but yeah, Uhuna. She died and I wasn't there for her. Anything that happens after that doesn't matter a damn. She died.” “You love her,” Temporary Death realised. “Still.” “Yeah, maybe,” Bill admitted. “But that's not the point. Point is I failed her, and the kindest, sweetest, most caring person I'll ever know died a cruel pointless horrible death because of that.” he looked down at his wrists. “And that's not a world I want to live in,” he added. “I see.” Tricia blinked back tears and came to stand before the distressed hero. “That wouldn't be a temporary death, you know,” she warned him. “You wouldn't go to my domain this time.” “Your domain?” Nats repeated. “You're going back?” “Being called back, is more like it,” the plump pale girl replied. “I am my role. I can't deny it for long. And my big brother Coincidence says we won't be interacting with mortals any more. It's become too dangerous. So I'll never see you again anyway. But Bill, I don't want you to die.” Nats closed his eyes. He had nothing more to say. “Goodbye, then,” Temporary Death whispered to him. “Goodbye Bill. Here's my very final parting gift to you.” She blushed a little and leaned towards him. “With love.” Then Tricia kissed him, and as she did she took the knife from his hands and threw it aside. It was a good kiss, deep and long, and hauntingly familiar. Nats opened his eyes and blinked in surprise as he saw Uhuna kissing him back. “Hi Bill,” the Abhuman princess smiled, her cheeks folding into their familiar dimples. “Miss me?” Tricia had given him one last present. “I figure we can catapult you back home pretty easily,” Al B. Harper told Keiko, scribbling chalk equations on the wall-panelling of the Chinese Room. “The problem was always going to be shifting the interdimensional relationships between your world and the Parodyverse, and since that’s taken care of now we can phase you back pretty easily.” “But you probably won’t remember much of this,” Miss Framlicker warned. “No more than a few minutes will have passed for you, and this’ll all seem like some really weird dream.” “I can live with that,” Keiko assured them. “No offence, but I’ve had enough of the Parodyverse for a lifetime.” The EEE staff looked at each other. “Well that’s the thing,” Al B. admitted. “Your world is free from merging with the Parodyverse now…” “But we’re no so sure about you,” Amy Aston admitted. “You’ve been here too long. You might slip back.” “In which case we just find another way to get you home again,” Al B. assured her. “How?” Keiko asked. “I dunno,” the archscientist admitted. “I haven’t invented it yet.” “Thanks for the present,” Hallie told Visionary as they drank punch and watched the dancing. “Nobody else would have thought to give me a toilet roll with instructions.” “The regular presents kind of burned down with the Condo,” Vizh blushed. “I was kind of scavenging.” “It’s the personal presents that mean so much.” “I promise I’ll get you something nice, a proper present, as soon as I get a job, earn some money, find place to stay, and…” “Don’t go to trouble on my account.” Vizh swallowed down his drink. “Are you incredibly mad at me?” he checked. “I mean about Miiri? Madder than when you thought I’d got Lisa pregnant?” “Well, probably not that mad. Anyway, it’s none of my business if you choose to yekla-sto in the b’rah position with a beautiful alien love goddess, I’m sure.” “It was a one time thing,” the possibly fake man said. “We agreed that last night when she came to apologise for embarrassing me. I don’t know if that makes me more or less slimy, but there we are.” “I’m going to go back to being a computer sentience,” Hallie told him abruptly. “I’ve talked with Enty and he thinks he can do it. This body will get put away in stasis and I’ll be myself again.” “You’re always yourself,” Visionary assured her. “Digital or analogue, you’re always you.” “I thought being human would be better than what I was. But why should I be just another human when I can be the only me? One is one and all alone and ever more shall be so.” “You can be Hallie and still not be all alone,” Visionary promised her. “By the way, do you know another ancient tradition?” “What?” asked the green-skinned young woman. Visionary pointed above them to the branch of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. “Well, since it’s tradition,” conceded Hallie. Lisa found the Hooded Hood at the centre of the hedge maze in the manor’s gardens. He was observing a frozen fountain and watching an icicle slowly melt. “How much of the last few months was your doing?” the amorous advocatrix wondered, moving over to stand opposite him. “The Transworlds Challenge, the Hellraisers Ascendant, Sage Grimpenghast’s little bet…?” “Does it matter?” asked the cowled crime czar. “It matters,” Lisa assured him. “I know you set up the Lord Resolution for a fall, and you provoked Balefire’s attack, and you arranged for Nats to trigger the Abhuman War, but what else? You used the Gamesmaster’s contest to try and thwart the Dead Hell Lords, and when that didn’t work you arranged for them to capture Herringcarp Asylum so you could force them to use your turf not their own. But did you expect Art and Randy and Mindy to die? Or the Juniors? Or the Legion?” “I expected there to be a cost,” the Hood admitted. “But what were you really up to, Iolodobaoth?” Lisa demanded. “What were you really looking to achieve with all of this? Why were you…” And then it struck her. “Oh…! Of course! You bastard! I see it now! That’s what you’re aiming to do! You absolute bastard!” “Lisa,” the Hooded Hood said tenderly, reaching out for her. Then he snapped her neck. “What part of archvillain didn’t you understand?” he asked her corpse. His eyes glowed for a moment and he turned aside. Lisa found the Hooded Hood at the centre of the hedge maze in the manor’s gardens. He was observing a frozen fountain and watching an icicle slowly melt. “How much of the last few months was your doing?” the amorous advocatrix wondered, moving over to stand opposite him. “The Transworlds Challenge, the Hellraisers Ascendant, Sage Grimpenghast’s little bet…?” “Later,” the Hooded Hood told the first lady of the Lair Legion. And he kissed her. Asil found Mumphrey in his study, sponging the bloodstains off his favourite chair. “The cleaning staff can do that tomorrow,” his amanuensis chided him. “They’re back now the enchantment’s over.” “Chap should really clean up after his own murder,” Mumph commented. “I’ve never seen a murder turn out better,” Asil assured him. “I was rather upset for a while there. I keep thinking I’ve lost you.” “Bad penny and all that, what?” the eccentric Englishman snuffled. “Still, this was a jolly big gamble all the same. Didn’t know who was a Hero Feeder and who I could trust, so I had to play it pretty close. Sorry about that.” “But the Hooded Hood worked it out.” “Hmph, Too clever by half, that bounder. But time’ll come when the Legion takes him down. Count on it.” Asil smiled at the indignation in Mumph’s tones. “Oh, and I worked out that Rushes-O song, too,” she told him. “What it means, I mean.” Mumphrey plumped down in his chair. “Really?” he challenged. “Yes. All that counting down, until there’s just one left. It’s not about killing people off, or driving them away. It’s about bringing them together, isn’t it, until there’s only one united whole, to face whatever comes. One is one and all alone. That’s the Lair Legion lined up?” She prodded Mumph in the waistcoat. “Isn’t it?” “It’s all mystery to me, m’dear,” the eccentric Englishman admitted. “I leave the meanings to the clever folks. I just smite the ungodly and hope for the best. Seems to work.” “But the Legion is back, isn’t it? And ready to line up?” Mumphrey broke into a big mischievous smile. “And ever more will be so.” Follow-ups to this episode include: Epilogue - The Return Home by AnimeJason April Alice Apple Presents … The Secret Origin of the Groovy Gecko-Gal by CrazySugarFreakBoy! The Restaurant at the End of the Footnotes Ebony’s Onsen: An onsen, as the Shoggoth stories keep reminding us, is a natural hot spring. Ebony of Nubilia has one in her Lemurian quarters, and thanks to the dimensions-twisting abilities of her patron tends to carry it around with her for convenience’s sake. However, the special spatial problems of the Manor here preclude her using that trick to access her bathroom. Izzy Shapiro, CrazySugarFreakBoy!’s first true love, died in her teens and has been intermittently hanging around haunting him (or being a random psychological projection from CSFB!’s brain) and acting as a supernatural guidance counsellor ever since. She’s been absent since Dream hooked up with April until now. Hatman’s Progress: Jay Boaz “spent centuries in Faerie” in UT#157: The Sleeping Hero after being assumed dead. Hagatha was the first person to discern he was still alive but frozen in a block of supernatural ice, but she neglected to mention it to anyone. Xander’s Wager was mentioned in UT#198: Once More With Feeling. Xander asked Dancer to keep a box of his possessions safe in UT#166: Fall of the Sorcerer Supreme. The Hood’s pact with Death was established in UT#53: A Perspective from the Other Side. Nobody can accuse him of not planning ahead. The Hood made an agreement with Keiko in UT#162: There's No Place Like Home. Hero Feeders are lurker parasites who dwell in the interdimensional vortex between narratives. They vary in power and intelligence, and the worst of them seek to break into the story-worlds and absorb and consume characters. In our tale today, Pelznichol, the personification of old Yule, turned out to have been replaced by a Hero feeder at the behest of Sage Grimpenghast; and this Hero Feeder in turn spawned others who replaced several other cast members. And In the End: The Revised Lair Legion Line-Up as of UT#201: Sir Mumphrey Wilton, leader Field Team: Yo, deputy leader Hatman, tactical advisor, liaison officer CrazySugarFreakBoy! Trickshot Nats Dancer The Manga Shoggoth Mr Epitome De Brown Streak (probationary) Associate Members Lisa Waltz, legal advisor and morale officer Visionary, headmaster of the Junior LL programme The Librarian, research consultant Al B. Harper, scientific advisor If anyone else wants to rejoin or join up now’s the time to say so.  Image by Al B. Harper and Dancer The Hooded Hood's Homepage of Doom Who's Who in the Parodyverse Where's Where in the Parodyverse Original concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2005 reserved by Ian Watson. Other Parodyverse characters copyright © 2005 to their creators. The use of characters and situations reminiscent of other popular works do not constitute a challenge to the copyrights or trademarks of those works. The right of Ian Watson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. |
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