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Cleric
Oct 22, 2007 8:21:56 GMT -5
Post by Aedh on Oct 22, 2007 8:21:56 GMT -5
With the kids safely tucked in in their rooms and the competent female ninja nurse assassins who take care of them in Rima’s absence given their instructions, EG Aedh and his wife depart, arm in arm, for his ocean-front palazzo on whose terrace Paul Van Dyk and Westbam are now currently laying down some custom beats … a modest guest list of some four hundred dancing, playing in the pool, or simply relaxing as the afterglow of the Riviera day turns the sea off St Tropez to shimmering wine.
The party’s theme is “EC-100.” The limousines are parked in a line halfway up the mountainside … Bronze flesh and wet hair gleam in the glow from sconced torches, the Veuve Cliquot flows freely, and the euphoric trance beats rock the foundations which in AD 411 were built to support a community of ascetic monks who had fled from the Sack of Rome. Aedh, immaculate in black tie and tails, his shaggy hair loosely tied back, passes among them like a duke .. a word here, a handshake there, and a few dance steps with his perfectly coutured better-half.
Eventually, though, business’ tentacles reach, even here … Gilles steps up to the big man, and they head through the portico and into the drawing room to take a satellite-phone call.
“Yes?” he says, picking up the device. “Make it quick—Rima doesn’t like being without me. Yes … mmm … our contract waste-hauler has gone off-course, you say? Nuclear missiles? Blew up the planet?? And tracking this way eh?” He clucks disapprovingly … irritating developments, to be sure—especially the loss of the cesspit planet—but not atypical situations for an Evil Genius; he wouldn’t be where he was to-day if he couldn’t deal with things like this quickly and easily.
“Activate tractor beam … let it drain the ship’s power, and teleport any living personnel on board to Secure Holding Area Nine-C …. Yes, that’s right, Teletubbyland. If Tinky Winky and Dipsy don’t reduce them to gibbering wrecks in a day or so, Po and La-Laa will … no no--no need for the Noo-Noo—yet. I may be an evil genius, but I’m no sadist. Let’s see what we’ve got first.”
He clicks off and hands the device back to Gilles … and strides back outside. Rima—with Mahmoud nearby, of course—has started a pole dance, much to the delight of the crowd. He smiles to himself. She’s still got it …. still the firecracker I fell for back in Evil Genius Academy, when I was a struggling student and she was a waitress. We showed ‘em alright! His smile broadens as he looks out from his vantage point, and sticks two fingers in his lip to emit a loud wolf whistle.
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Cleric
Oct 22, 2007 14:44:26 GMT -5
Post by Mirabilis on Oct 22, 2007 14:44:26 GMT -5
*Father opens her eyes....the brief but stomach-churning trip through hyperspace makes her feel momentarily disorientated and woozy. Sluggishly looking around the cramped flight deck all seems normal...lights blinking off and on where they should......the machine that goes "ping"...went "PING"......the mini display monitor flashing in big red friendly letters it's warning message......yes...everything looked....* What the.....hang on!!! *Her eyes snap back to the little screen, her wooziness very quickly evaporating as she reads the flashing message: WARNING!! EXTERNAL TRACTOR BEAM IS LOCKED ON.....EMERGENCY ENERGY DRAIN IS OPERATIONAL.....REMOTE EVAC TELEPORT WILL ACTIVATE IN T MINUS 10 SECONDS...NINE...EIGHT....*Holeeee crap!!!!*She scrambles to unstrap herself from the pilot seat then starts hitting buttons frantically.....nothing responds. Oh no...not now....not again!! Shiiiiite!!! *In desperation she looks at her wrist teleporter, now blinking a spiteful amber, indicating it's own power source is getting low again* *....SEVEN....SIX....FIVE....*Dammit!!! No time to recharge, I'll have to risk it on half power! Lord knows what the effect of two teleports in operation simultaneously will do......but if I know anything about Evil Overlords, I'm damn sure I know where THAT teleport is emanating from....and there is NO WAY my ass is gonna ride THAT one to the welcoming committee at the other end!! *FOUR...THREE...TWO....*She punches in co-ordinates...squeezes her eyes shut......hits the button and.... *POP* *...ONE. ENERGISE**** *KERRRR-POP* *The wall of sound hits Father like a belly flop and she reels, instinctively throwing her hands out to grasp the shiny metal pole rearing up vertically in front of her. Hugging it for dear life she is suddenly aware of the flashing lights around her.....the noise that has now morphed into a pounding trance disco beat, throbbing relentlessly.......and a huge crowd of apparently well heeled people clustered around the raised platform grinning, whistling and clapping their hands at her as she teeters precariously in very un-Fatherlike slender 3 inch heel silver strappy sandals....and a clingy sheer dove grey silk dress with a side split up to her thigh* Woohoo!! C'mon Rima!! Don't quit now...the party's just getting started!!!*Stunned momentarily, like a rabbit caught in headlights, Father gawps at the press of people around her, all jumping and gyrating to the music...hands pumping the air. She clutches the pole tighter...a sudden queasy feeling spreading through her as her eyes now take in the exquisite solitaire diamond and platinum ring on her left ring finger.....with a matching diamond encrusted bangle on her wrist... the letters R-I-M-A picked out in rubies* Rima? RIMA??? OMG!!!!!!!!! *One hand flutters up to her hair which is no longer a tangle of lustrous copper coils falling to her shoulders but instead is swept up into an immaculate French pleat* No......NO.....NOOOOOO!!!!!! Damn those bloody teleports!! What have I DONE???*With an awful sinking feeling she slides, not ungracefully down the pole, her shapely rear hitting the base with a soft bump...oblivious to the whoops from the crowd chanting Rima's name, still thinking it's all part of her act. Father just sits there shaking her head....her expression a turmoil of emotions* This cannot be happening!! What a screw up!! What have I done? ......And if I'm here........where the hell did my sister end up??? .......And even more to the point, where the hell is....... *She looks up slowly, her gaze traveling over the heads of the throng, drawn inexorably to an imposing figure standing a way off and slightly above the crowd, dressed immaculately in black tie and tails, shaggy hair loosely tied back...who is now regarding her in return with a puzzled and concerned expression on his face* ........my sister's *choke* husband?!!!
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Cleric
Oct 22, 2007 18:24:06 GMT -5
Post by Aedh on Oct 22, 2007 18:24:06 GMT -5
With a shake of her fiery hair, Rima comes to … vaguely. She’s dizzy … and nauseous! After a brief pause to heave—nothing coming up—she realises that she is, first, ravenously hungry; two, hot and sweaty … looking down, it comes to her that she’s covered head-to-toe in--her leathers from the ‘plane! Which seem to have been immured in a sewer pit and then very cursorily wiped off … her nose wrinkles and she gags again. That brings her to with a snap, and it hits her that wherever she is, it’s not the pole on the terrace where she was showing him and his friends her newly-acquired skill.
She looks around … and recognises a landscape very familiar to a million mothers: green fields, flowers, bunnies, and a sun with a baby’s face looking down from the bright blue sky.
Teletubbyland …?
OK, get a grip, girl. You fell … slid off the pole somehow … gave yourself a nasty knock on the nut … and you’re in hospital under the influence of some powerful sedative … it’ll wear off, she thinks. You’ll come round, and he’ll be there … with your hand in his, and that wonderful look on his face that only you and the kids and a very few intimates like Sister Jeanne-Marie get to see … more’s the pity, somehow.
She feels around ... something's on her wrist ... something not a watch, with a lot of tiny buttons, flashing red with the words: BATTERY LOW. And what's this?? She checks a lump in her pocket and produces an object like a fountain pen with a strange electronic tip. She presses a catch and an odd beam shoots out for a moment ... then she presses 'off. ' Whatever ... She doesn't feel like even trying to think it all out.
Ahh … a nurse arriving … a green nurse with a telly in her round tummy and one antenna on her head. Nurse Dipsy. “Uh-oh!” says Nurse Dipsy cheerfully.
Rima sighs … “Uh-oh!” she says back with as much good spirit as she can muster. Just play along … don’t fight it; it’ll wear off … eventually.
Elsewhere …[/i] Rima’s pole dance ends with a bump on her rear. She’s apparently had more DP than she usually takes … and trying to show me in front of everyone how lovely she is, thinks Aedh with sudden concern, breaking into a rapid walk as Mahmoud helps her up … she’s obviously a bit disoriented.
He dismisses Mahmoud and takes both her hands as she stands, weaving a bit uncertainly … almost as if she’s not used to the heels. He smiles at the circle of partygoers around, applauding her effort. “Carry on, mes amis,” he bids them. ”Allez-y!” He says to Gilles and Mahmoud: “I think that Mme Aedh has had, perhaps, a bit much refreshment. I believe we will retire early to-night … Where is Mlle Tilly?”
“Here sir,” says the efficient major-domo, stepping up; well aware that she’s on the short list to replace Mamba in case of … well, anything happening. Her aim is to ensure that her name absolutely tops it. It wasn’t lack of ability that got her her previous position as the first-ever female bodyguard in the Pope’s personal entourage. And as always she fits perfectly with the crowd in her knee-length white Valentino dress and corsage, marked off only by her tiny earset.
“Excellent. Mlle Tilly, you will see to it that all goes well, and that everyone has a great time. That’s an order,” he smiles.
“Yes, sir.” With her guidance this party will be next week’s buzz in all the right places … which at this point are looking few and very select. Friends only. Thank goodness no flashes went off during the--um--little bump ... not that she doesn't know how to handle the paparazzi.
“You are authorised to do whatever it takes to accommodate, and the staff will of course comply with your instructions as if they were my own. I think,” he says, looking over at Rima, “I've been somewhat remiss in my husbandly duties." He inclines his head toward her, and plants a kiss on her lips.
"My wife and I will now withdraw to our bedchamber for some quality time. You will of course stay in contact, and Gilles and Mahmoud will be replaced on schedule by Olga and Denis shortly for night post in the usual positions inside, prepared for action.” He looks again, at Rima’s strangely widening eyes, and mouths: She'll be alright in the morning! and gives a grin and a wink. Then he takes her arm firmly and guides her up the steps.
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Cleric
Oct 23, 2007 13:28:02 GMT -5
Post by Mirabilis on Oct 23, 2007 13:28:02 GMT -5
*Inside Father's mind a heated exchange is taking place between her two selves.*
Father self: *mental panic* Well that's IT then...game over! How the dickens do we get out of THIS mess??? He kissed us for god's sake!! And now he's got one hand on our butt!!! "Quality time....in his bedchamber???" Good grief!!!! We'll have to come clean now....*mental groan*.....what other choice do we have?? What a disaster!
Evil Overlord self: Get a grip!! There are always choices! We have to take advantage of this golden opportunity....it's so obvious.....so eeeeasy! *wicked mental chuckle*
Father: What??? But we can't.....can't...no...NO BLOODY WAY...he's our sister's husband!! AND our arch enemy to boot!
Evil Overlord: *metal soothing tone* Of course he is! But HE doesn't know we are not HIS wife! Heheh....perfect!! Oh come on....think about it! We'll be all alone with him....nobody disturbing us.....a situation we can take full advantage of! Look...when are men at their most weak and vulnerable???
Father: Ummm...when you take the TV remote away from them??
Evil Overlord: *mental sneer* Oh very funny! NO!! When they're caught with their pants down!!! Hah! THAT's when we deliver out master stroke!! Mwahahahaha!! *Ahem...sorry* There's gotta be a dozen different things we could use as a weapon in the bedchamber...and if not..then...*mental shrug*.....we can always resort to our ...
Father: DON'T EVEN THINK IT!!!!
*Father is now being gently guided by her attentive "husband" along a plushly carpeted corridor toward an imposing set of solid oak double doors at the far end......she risks a sideways glance at him and almost stumbles as she reads the very obvious look in his eyes.*
Father: OMG!! OMG!!!
Evil Overlord: Will you SHUT UP and stop that mental whimpering...it is SO pathetic!
Father: But...but...OMG.....we're at the door!! We're going inside!! Arghhhh!!! Don't panic! Don't panic!!!!
Evil Overlord: *mental slap*
Father: Owwww!
Evil Overlord: Right that's IT! YOU will keep quiet! EYE am running this show for now!! You know, while YOU were busy cowering like a whipped puppy while Queen Mother entertained herself.....EYE was making notes!!
Father: Yes but....
Evil Overlord: SILENCE!!!!!
*EG Aedh stands aside while "Rima," now suddenly looking much recovered....glides past him into the bedroom...a coy smile on her lips. The door closes with a gentle click.....followed the clunk of a large key being turned*
Father: !!!!!!!!!!
Evil Overlord: Heheheh......watch.......and learn!
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Cleric
Oct 23, 2007 21:36:12 GMT -5
Post by Aedh on Oct 23, 2007 21:36:12 GMT -5
Inside the bedchamber with its high vaulted ceiling and bank of French doors opening onto a wonderful Mediterranean panorama—now evinced by a path of moonlight on the black sea-surface, with the night lights of several guests’ yachts riding at anchor--the Evil Genius clicks shut the double doors and gives Rima a reassuring caress and a kiss. She’s seemed out of sorts … disturbed, not her usual chatty self—especially chatty when she’s had a bit much champagne. She must be feeling very depressed, he thinks to himself.
“Now, go freshen up darling,” he bids her kindly, and walks with her to a wardrobe, opening up the doors to display a rack of thirty-odd pieces of feminine nightwear, which he surveys with a touch of pride. “This is a special night for us. The kitchen is in full swing. If you could call down and order my usual nightcap please, and whatever pleases you, dear—oh, and …” here he gives a sly smile as he loosens his hair and shakes it out lionlike over his shoulders—“I’d love it if you wore the very negligee you wore on our wedding night … that would be marvelous. I need to make a quick, tiny, little call.” He shucks his tailcoat, loosens his tie, and pulls out a cellphone, pacing, but keeping a loving and concerned eye on his better half. “Twenty-One … one thing quickly …”
Elsewhere …[/b] Nurse Dipsy is joined in short order by—it would seem—Doctor Tinky Winky. The two Tubbies pick up Rima, who feels not at all like offering any resistance, and lay her on a hand-drawn tumbril in which they convey her to the Tubby House.
Inside, Po helps them help her lay down on an oversized comfy couch. In her disoriented state, Rima finds some strange comfort in the totally friendly, unthreatening surroundings. Doctor Tinky Winky removes the irritating device from her wrist, and Po and Nurse Dipsy help her off with her coat and boots. Chattering in Tubby Talk, which she understands, they ask her if she feels alright, and she points to her tummy and makes a hungry face.
At once, Po toddles over to the kitchenette and returns with a bowl of porridge … hot, fresh porridge, even if slightly too sweetened. Rima sits up and devours the concoction—nothing ever tasted better. Then, relaxing, the porridge warming her insides, she lays back on the comfy couch, and is soon asleep.
Elsewhere again …[/b] in a control room, several analysts are poring over a video monitor.
“That’s Father alright,” says one in a lab coat, a tall, balding man with spectacles. “The bioprint from sensors in the couch, along with the fact the she had in her possession the last remaining personal teleporter thought to be in the possession of Father, confirms it completely.”
“If she’s Father, she’s acting completely out of character,” comments a female. “Father HATES the Teletubbies … she should be reacting very adversely. And hands were laid on her, removing unique and valuable devices. Yet she offered not a whit of objection to her teleporter being removed, and her coat with the other alien tool in it--and her biorhythms indicate complete relaxation—and she’s now going to sleep.”
“We did drug the porridge,” points out a third technician.
“Yes, but she was relaxed even before that,” replies the woman.
Doc Mock, who has been listening quietly, steps up, scratching his face with one arm, digging in his pocket with another, and sipping a cup of coffee with a third. “What of the ship?” he asks.
“We don’t know a lot yet,” replies Baldy. “We did find the bodies of Contractor 11683, Slomo, S., and Contractor Minion 11683-A, one ‘Screwy,’ on board … both shot to death point-blank with an energy-weapon, Slomo’s own. It would seem that Father appropriated Slomo’s weapon and terminated him and Screwy with it.”
“Now THAT is Father-like behaviour,” admits the woman.
“Her coat bears the label of custom tailoring for Number One’s wife, Number Two,” says another person, walking up with a clipboard. “She’s wearing Number Two’s clothes.”
“Stolen?” theorizes Porridge Technician.
“Also Father-like,” says Baldy.
“But how would Father get into Number Two’s closet?” asks a bearded man. “And why? It’s not like she’s without means to get clothes of her own with far less risk than infiltrating Number One’s personal quarters."
Doc Mock ponders. "It’s all damned odd … odder than a game of Esperanto Scrabble. However, we have one infallible way of finding out if this is really Father or not.”
“What’s that?” asks Clipboard Man.
Doc Mock surveys them with disdain. “You have to look at the BIG picture, you overpaid, underworked bunch of college dorks. Look—what does Father hate? Really hate … more even than Teletubbies?”
“Garlic,” suggests one.
“Rude waiters,” ventures another.
“Blokes who won’t yield their seat on trains?”
"Number One?"
“Decaf!”
“Well, we’re moving in the right direction,” says the underboss with a sarcastic sigh.
“Auditors,” says the female confidently.
Doc Mock looks at her levelly. “Best yet--but you gotta admit … everyone hates auditors.”
The control room falls silent.
The mad scientist says in a low voice: “Every little helps ...”
“TESCO!!” ring out six voices.
“Exactamundo, Freunde,” concludes Doc Mock. “Remove her … make sure she wakes up in a Tesco. Then we’ll know who we’re really dealing with here. Monitor, log all developments, and keep me posted. Alert me the moment she wakes up.” Then he strides off, setting his coffee cup down with one hand, taking the clipboard from the new arrival with two and three, and giving the female analyst a little smack on the bottom with the fourth.
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Cleric
Oct 24, 2007 7:16:35 GMT -5
Post by Mirabilis on Oct 24, 2007 7:16:35 GMT -5
*Father's expression freezes for a fraction of a split second as she watches EG Aedh pace the floor with the cellphone pressed to his ear, his eyes never leaving her. In that brief moment there is just enough time for a small nagging voice to intrude into her mind*
Father: Bloody Hell!! It's a trick!! A trick!! He KNOWS!!! The bastard knows we're not his wife!!! We're doomed I tell you....DOOMED!!!!
Evil Overlord: I warned you to KEEP QUIET!!! HE doesn't know that WE know HE knows though....or does he?!! Hmmmm....I'm thinking...thinking.... Okay.....revert to Plan B!
Father: Plan B? Oh....riiiight...Plan B!!!
*She smiles sweetly across at EG and flaps her hand at the en suite bathroom*
Just got to use the little girl's room first darling....all that refreshment....you know how it is.
*He smiles back at her and nods his head in acknowledgement....still talking quietly into the phone. Once inside she closes the door behind her...exhales a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding and strides purposefully over to the gold tapped wash basins...her eyes scanning the shelves above which are loaded with colognes, perfumes, creams and various other items for pampering the body. Her eyes alight on a large tortoise shell pot and she reaches up and removes it from the shelf, lifting it's lid and studying it's contents. A small smile plays across her lips*
Evil Overlord: Perfect!
Father: Perfect!
*Quickly she slips out of her clothes and grabs one of the white fluffy bath robes hanging on a hook next to the massive double shower cubicle. Throwing it on she dashes over to the loo, hits the flush button, runs a tap loudly then briefly checking her makeup in the huge mirror, takes another deep breath and clutching the pot, opens the door again and glides calmly back into the bedroom. EG is now off the phone and eyes her up and down in her robe. She shrugs apologetically and walks up to him proffering the pot.*
Sorry my dear...before I slip into something more comfortable, would you mind giving me a little dusting with this talc...I so love the smell of this one.
*Their eyes lock for a moment.......then, smile broadening, he takes the pot from her and she turns around with her back to him letting the robe fall to her waist*
Just a little across the back and around the neck and shoulders my love.
*He removes the lid and takes out the powder puff inside and delicately coats it with the fine powder...then proceeds to apply it fairly liberally across her smooth milky skin...little clouds of white billowing up into the air around her head*
Aah...that's perfect darling....
*She turns around to face him...her hands reaching up to caress each side of his rugged face*
...the fragrance is so.....so...........so.......a---aaa---aaaa-----AAA----CHOOOOOOOO!!!!!
*There is a brief "WHUMPH" and in the next instant, EG Aedh is cocooned completely from head to foot in a tight mesh of black shiny spandex. Quick as lightning Father snatches up the solid powder pot that has hit the floor at her feet and bringing her hand round in a sweeping arc, clouts the unfortunate EG upside his head with as much force as she can muster, sending him reeling across the room to land in a shrink-wrapped heap on the super-duper-double-evil-genius-custom-built-king-size bed. He lays there groaning but not moving.
Father: Now's your chance....FINISH HIM!!!
*Swiftly she scans the room...her eyes resting momentarily on the French windows*
Evil Overlord: CRAP!!! No time unfortunately....we have to leave...NOW!
Father: WHAT!! But...but....you said....
Evil Overlord: SHUT. UP!! Our sister....I suddenly.....don't...oh never mind!!
*She dismisses the windows as a bad option then moves swiftly over to the built-in closet, opening the doors and pushing clothes aside...her hands feeling along the back wall*
Evil Overlord: Where is it....dammit..there has to be one here...HAS to be! No Evil Genius would have a bedroom without a secret way out!
*Her hands continue to grope around until as she reaches the far right her fingers encounter a raised button set in the wall*
Aha!!
*She presses the button and immediately a large panel slides open at her feet with stone steps leading downwards...small concealed lights winking on as the panel comes to a halt. She scans the clothes hanging all around her and grabs a suitably Evil Overlord style black leather cat suit plus a pair of stout looking black Doc Martin boots, then with one regretful backward glance at the still motionless but unfortunately still very much alive figure slumped on the bed, hurriedly descends the steps. The panel silently swishes back into place with a soft click and all is still again*
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Cleric
Oct 24, 2007 13:12:29 GMT -5
Post by Aedh on Oct 24, 2007 13:12:29 GMT -5
Checking his email before he turns in, Sir Terry, chairman of Neo-TESCO, comes across a blinking “priority” ‘mail … he opens it and what he reads causes him to grab the comset. “Hello … yes, Leahy here … look--Hawkins, is it?? Hawkins, what is this disaster? Our Neo-TESCO on Planet Lycra has dissolved in a puddle of … of what--Spandexitis goop--? Well I don’t know what that is, but it can’t be good. The Chairman will have a fit! What is--? What’s that? Good news?” he asks severely, his smile almost leaving his rubicund face. “Try me, Hawkins.” He listens a moment. “Eh? Spandexitis … goop … is the … preferred food … of the endangered … ultra-rare … Spotty Zaza Bird … found only on Planet Lycra … they’re starting to gather there … devouring it happily … declared bird sanctuary … ornithologists already on their way to study this uprecedented flock?? TESCO could be in line for an award for Most Significant Wildlife Conservation Project of the Year? Well of course I should accept it on behalf of the Company!” His smile is back full force … and he makes a note to position himself for some Monday-morning investment moves. “And svelte, comely Lycran Vixens are applying en masse for Neo-TESCO jobs in athletics and women’s intimates departments …? A delegation of them want to meet myself and the Chairman, and thank us HOW?” He blushes furiously, throwing a look over at his wife, who is already asleep in her bed. “Umm … well—express our appreciation for their, ah, enthusiasm … Thank you Hawkins … Every Little Helps!” He rings off and takes himself to bed with his hot chocolate and detective novel with contentment. Back in St Tropez ... [/b]The Evil Genius comes to, woozily, in some sort of odd state … he’s wrapped up in something stretchy and can’t move much … can barely see or move inside the strong but stretchy matierel. He can, however, hear a chime jingling insistently, and hear pounding … pounding on his head … and pounding on the door. The door …?In a flash it all comes back to him. Rima’s strange behaviour … her sudden desire to use the talcum powder, a gift from a German countess which she never liked and had meant to throw away … her sneeze, and his now being encased in a substance with which he’s intimately familiar—Spandex--it all makes sense. He gasps. His darling must have become infected with .. Spandexitis!! He bellows, and there is a click … the door’s been opened with one of the passkeys in the possession of the four ninja nurse assassins, the head bodyguard on duty, and Mlle Tilly. But where is Rima then?? She must have taken flight in shame …. She could only have fled by the window … or … or … NO! Even with temporary mania possessing her, she surely wouldn’t have taken … THAT way!!By this time one of the NNAs--a capable Black Belt (Fourth Dan), registered nurse, and part-time J-Pop rocker named Michiko, has slit the wrapping down each side, enabling him to struggle at least partly free. “I came--Adrian couldn’t sleep—he wanted a story from his Maman—“ she begins. “Well, she’s not here,” he says brusquely. “The door was locked?” “Key on the inside,” confirms Michiko. “Give me your comset,” he orders, and punches a speed-dial button. “Twenty-One … there’s been an incident. Two apparently wishes to leave on her own—yes, we can’t have that. Send word to the EG Yacht crew out at anchorage to be on full alert for any attempt to leave by boat or other vehicle like jet-ski, and if any goes by, or has gone by without clearance, send the ‘copter to intercept—with minimum force—this is my wife we’re dealing with, you hear?? Of course, secure the perimeter in case she decides to double back and leave by land, and naturally the ‘copter is crewed at all times. Yes … yes … from the bedroom—I know. I’m really praying she didn’t take THAT way! I’ve been trying to get that blasted Doctor fellow to pop in and try to fix it--The Bastard's the only man on staff who's qualified with that technology and he refuses to touch it … yes, I’ve been thinking it’s some kind of bypass that some agent installed somewhere--no matter how we try to adjust the matrix it won’t lead anywhere but to the Queen Mother’s Fetish Dungeon—and if QM finds Rima in her oubliette, she’ll take one look at her and mistake her for You Know Whom … yeah … ‘ICK’ is right!!” A worried look crosses his ruggedly handsome face as Michiko finishes peeling the fabric off of him. “There’s no telling … hell, if YOU can find a kamikaze volunteer who’s willing to go down there and check—go to it!” He clicks off and hands the tiny unit back to the NNA. Then he looks up past her to see Gilles in the doorway, with little Adrian in front of him in his jim-jams, his face streaked with tears and clutching his beloved Teddy bear … with Adela beside in her nightie, a rather cynical look on her young face. “Maman! Ou est Maman?” cries Adrian. “She’s not here,” Adela tells him softly. Then she looks up. “That wasn’t Mamma you brought in here. Look … ” She gestures toward the Spandex strips. “Who can do that but Aunty Father? It was her you were about to go to bed with,” she says with juvenile directness. “Impossible!” splutters the Evil Genius. “That surely wasn’t Father we had ice-cream with!” “No, but it surely wasn’t Mamma on that pole either,” says Adela cooly. “Mamma’s a lot better than that, even with a snootful.” Then she turns to comfort Adrian, who is now sobbing openly. The Evil Genius gets up and slowly goes to pick up his youngest and cradle him in his big arms, digesting the full implications of what his daughter is saying. “They got switched somehow,” offers Michiko. Adrian looks up at his Papa with round blue eyes, still hugging Teddy. “Where is Maman?” he asks, still single-minded. Aedh wipes the boy’s runny nose with a silk handkerchief. It’s time to face reality, which is something every Evil Genius needs to do from time to time. A good question … and where am I? Where have I been? Where is my family…? “I don’t know, little big man,” he says softly. “I don’t know.”
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Cleric
Oct 24, 2007 17:05:35 GMT -5
Post by Aedh on Oct 24, 2007 17:05:35 GMT -5
[Arrrrgghhhh!!!!!!! ] I believe the old-school expression is ..."Curses! Foiled again!" ;D
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Oct 25, 2007 14:46:31 GMT -5
Post by Mirabilis on Oct 25, 2007 14:46:31 GMT -5
*Father has been wandering for what seems like hours along one tunnel after another....becoming increasingly frustrated. In some places the tiny lights barely penetrate the gloom...in some places there are no lights at all....just inky black shadows that almost look solid. Muttering to herself she casts around for some kind of exit....anything that would lead her back up to fresh air and freedom* Father: We are SO lost!Evil Overlord: *mental sarcasm* Keen observation! Sometimes you truly amaze me!Father: *mental sulk* Well we ARE! We're getting absolutely nowhere....fast!*Suddenly there is a marked change in the air quaility...although Father notes that it is not necessarily a change for the better.* Evil Overlord: Good grief....what IS that strange animal smell?Father: ............I........I.......KNOW that smell!!! WE know that smell! THINK!!!*Father pauses....peering ahead as the corridor suddenly takes a sharp turn to the left up ahead...there are flickering orange lights on the wall casting eerie shadows up the stonework* Evil Overlord: No........absolutely NO WAY is that possible....we're still under France for god's sake! We MUST be....unless somebody's been tinkering....again! But that scent is remarkably like......*Father turns the corner and a massive dome-shaped chamber looms up before her. On the very far side a set of stone steps disappears upwards....but her joy at finally seeing an escape route is short-lived as she gazes at what else is in the chamber.* Father: OMG!!!! *mental shock* SHE took great pleasure in describing this place in minute detail.......I didn't believe her...we didn't believe.....but it can only be the same place!*Before her is a space filled with every conceivable type of bondage/fetish accessory....assorted whips hanging from racks.....chains bolted to the brickwork.....a copper bucket stacked full of branding irons.....latex rubber "clothes" hanging on railings.....several pairs of thigh boots with 8" or higher steel spiked heels........and lying amid it all....stretched out on a red velvet chaise longue.......apparently napping...is a familiar statuesque female clad from head to toe in black leather.....her thick blonde hair half covering her beautiful but hard features* Father: Queen...Evil Overlord: ...Mother!Father: ARGHHHHHHHHH!!!!! We HAVE to get out of here fast!!!! OMGOMGOMGOMG....Evil Overlord: *mental backhander* Will you calm down! Panicking is NOT going to help! See....she's asleep....so all WE have to do is sneak past her and go up those stairs....and we're back in the palace!! Do you understand? We're HOME!!!*Father begins to negotiate around the frightening looking obstacles....glancing briefly at a huge rack with some ominous looking stains on it...but never taking her eyes off QM for more than a moment. The giantess sleeps on and Father picks up the pace a little until she is almost level with the couch* Father: Just a little further....we're going to make it! Yay! Just squeeze between her and this table and we're.......... *THWACK* An arm shoots out in front of Father and strikes the table with a long black horsewhip, blocking her path* Goink zomvere kitten? Zo nize ov you to pay a fizit to your old Qveenie! *Father comes to an abrupt halt and slowly swivels her whole body around to face the reclining Titanesse, who is looking her up and down with a half amused expression on her face* Father: OOoooooNoooooo!!!!! Nononononononononononooo!!!!!!!!Evil Overlord: *mental roundhouse kick* Now perhaps you will keep quiet for a while!!! EYE will handle this!*One corner of her mouth twitching into a cool smile, Father looks straight back at QM without a trace of fear* Yes...actually..I'm going back up those stairs! *She indicates across the chamber with a nod of her head* You got a problem with that? *QM regards Father for a moment, weighing her up......strange, she thinks....not her usual submissive and easily manipulated self* Hah! Me I hev no problem...alzough I hevn't vorgotten ze Schpandex incident......but YOU may hev ze very BIG problem if you go up zere! *She uncoils cat-like from the couch and sits up, reaching into a pocket of her leather trench-coat and extracting a silver cigarillo case and slimline Zippo lighter. Flipping open the case and removing a Sobranie Black Russian, she lights up and inhales deeply....then exhales again, a stream of blue smoke billowing up around her* Ze palace iz at ziz very moment crawling viz ze retched ninja bailiffs, azzizted by zome ridiculous looking kreatures zat rezemble KoKo ze Klown on azid! Zey arrived a couple ov dayz ago viz all ziz legal mumbo jumbo and vaving bitz of paper. Zey said zat YOU hev been defaulting on your paymentz....and zey were comink to remove variouz pozzezzionz to cover zome ov ze cost!! *Father goggles at her* What? Defaulting on my......? Impossible! I always paid on time!!!...Prestan was in charge of the organisational side of my finances...and he assured me that all....bills.....were paid.............why that LITTLE RUNT!!!! Just wait 'til I get my hands on him!!!! *QM snorts and stands up, her six foot frame looming over the shorter 5' 8" Father* Vel votever heppenz...zey are NOT getting zer henz on my devizes und artifaktz!! Do you know how veluable zome of zese pieces are??? Ve shall defend it viz all necezzary force! *Father looks at her sideways...raising an eyebrow and giving her a whithering look* We? I think I have other more important matters to attend to first before I consider standing... almost...shoulder to shoulder with you to defend a....a...glorified torture chamber! *QM lets out a husky belly laugh and slaps Father on the back* Oh....nein..nein...my little flame haired Fatherling .....neffer .... ve do nott do ze torture ... ve ... introduce persons to sensual experientzes beyond zeir imachinations! Und I am not talking about YOU ven I say "ve"......I mean my little ZeZe und myzelf! *QM turns and placing two fingers between her red lips lets out a piercing whistle. There is a moment of silence then a metallic clang as the door of a very large iron maiden standing next to the bottom of the steps slowly creaks open. From within emerges the biggest most frighteningly imposing female Father has ever seen....six feet at least...swathed in red leather and built like an Amazon on steroids with hair that far exceeds her own in length and intensity of redness. And the oddest looking eyes...one a normal blue...the other a very creepy orange. QM just chuckles taking another drag on her cigarette* Ach...she iz ze puzzykat really...but zo strong...oh ja....she iz magnivizent!! Und zo obedient to her Qveen Muzzer...she makes me very heppy, ja! *Father just stares gobsmacked* Well I've got to hand it to you Queenie....you finally met your match! I just hope she's still on our side when the brown stuff hits the fan...in about ten seconds!! *Without further ado Father starts to march purposefully toward the steps...then pauses and turns around to regard the odd couple* You coming? We have some business to take care of and I have a feeling some special talent may be required!
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Cleric
Oct 25, 2007 15:56:32 GMT -5
Post by Aedh on Oct 25, 2007 15:56:32 GMT -5
In Libria … all hell has broken loose … The Comic has suited up several hundred of his minions, and “Klerik Klowns” complete with black coats, tiny white Cadillacs, rubber noses, floppy shoes, and deadly submachine guns are holding up shops, cracking bank machines, freeing pets from pet stores, greeting women with wolf-whistles, taking candy from babies, sugaring petrol tanks, and extorting signatures for petitions to try to remove Libria from its signatory status to the Kyoto Accord … in a word, spreading terror and chaos. Cats roam everywhere, all with a mysterious purpose that no one understands … and in Father’s executive residence, shadowy figures are ransacking everything, handing computer disc drives, uncovered weapon caches, swag bags full of fancy leathers and lingerie, bottles of vintage wine and boxes of premium cigars, and anything else valuable-looking out to waiting vans … the sky slowly builds roiling clouds, pregnant with lightning, as Shagneto goes about his assignment.
Meanwhile, back at Le Ranch … [/i][/b] the Evil Genius has come to a decision. He reaches into his closet, and from the inner panel pulls out something none of them have seen for awhile: his action suit—dark brown leather trousers and top with reinforced limbs and mesh/spandex venting at crucial points. With it come his size-13 commando boots; a web belt with several pouches on it ready to go; crossover shoulder holsters holding twin Berettas …. and last of all, a well-oiled HK MP7A1 with a few custom mods, on a shoulder strap.
“Boss …?” says Gilles incredulously. Michiko just stares … she’s only heard stories of this.
Aedh begins moving quickly, purposefully. “I can’t ask anyone to do this but me. I got Rima into this … I have to get her out.”
Even Adela looks concerned. “But I’m telling you, Papa … that wasn’t Mamma!”
”Maman!” whimpers Adrian.
“Look,” says the big man, pausing for a moment to give them all a look that would melt cheese at twenty paces. “A woman went--almost certainly--to her doom from this room.” He begins changing again. “Maybe you’re right, Adela, and it is Aunty Father in that body … but it’s still the body of the woman I love. Or maybe not, and it is my Rima seized with some strange, unexplained phenomenon. But even if it were Father …. not even Father deserves THAT fate. And she did spare my life when she could have ended it with a quick blow. No matter how you slice it, I have to get the answer … and the answer lies down there somewhere.” He strides over to a Louis XVI escritoire and pushes a button: a computer top flips up. He ransacks his brain for a compliment. “You’re great minions … you’re key players in the best team of minions money can buy. But there’s just some things the Boss can’t leave to even the best minions.”
“Now,” he says, turning again, “it is time for some information … and to bid you all farewell for now.” He embraces his children, salutes Michiko, and claps Gilles on the shoulder in an almost comradely manner. “I’ll alert Twenty-One, and then I’ll be off … and … “ he squats down to give Adrian a kiss … “you will see me very soon again .. with Mama. Now you take care of Miss Michiko for me, alright?” Adrian sets his little jaw and nods. “That’s my little big man!” says Aedh proudly, and then shuts the door.
He speed-laces his boots as the computer warms up, and then he punches a few buttons … trying to locate his one really trusted comrade-in-arms: the one mentally keyed to his movements and voice through a sophisticated interface built into a microset which he now fits into his ear, and then plugs into the computer console. He starts looking at the screen … punches in a password and does a little navigating, muttering: “C’mon … c’mon …!”
CCQ left on its own, he’s well aware of that … some malfunction, unless he unintentionally communicated a command to it which it’s now still trying to carry out. That happens with this experimental mindware. Once it was gone for a week when he unthinkingly mentioned the title of the book ‘Bring Me The Head Of Alfredo Garcia’ in a conversation … THAT one had taken some explaining and a dose of hush-money!!
Streams of data flow across the screen. He had learnt from the hard experience of another cyber-inventor well-known to him. He had intentionally had made it difficult to communicate with CCQ. It cannot speak unless he’s in range, and then only the words that he subvocalises for it on his voiceprint. It constantly runs a variety of ‘wares which can’t be decrypted except with proprietary equipment, using his passwords--which vary according to a schedule he sets himself. It’s always collecting data, which is its primary function … to that end it has a default "gather mode" which means it will cooperate with nonthreatening humans when he's out of range, in order to maximise data collection, and it auto-uploads via wi-fi at set intervals. If either of them is threatened--it knows all the combat moves he knows himself, and probably a few more, though he intentionally set its reaction speed with weapons, well … just slightly slow, though still faster than your ordinary Sweeper or gang-banger. It has a self-destruct, which is keyed to a certain device he often carries and has now … and as a fail-safe it has ONE vulnerable point where a mere touch will shut it down.
It’s not within command range … he didn’t think it would be. But he’s picking up data dumps that have a lot to do with—um—tactile response … human reproductive anatomy and physiology … neurological stimuli ... pain thresholds … high-decibel audial analyses … the tensile properties of animal hide … he reads on with mounting disbelief. It’s obviously been keeping company with, well, some extremely weird people lately … When charts and graphs apparently conveying the mineral analysis of different urological samples start running, he shuts off with a look of disgust. “There really IS such a thing as too much information,” he mutters … and then reflects a moment. He HAD been concentrating on the Quest for Father’s Mojo … could it BE??[/b]
He shuts down, gears up, and whips out his comset for a few curt instructions to Mlle Tilly. He pushes the button that opens the door. Then he takes a deep breath … and descends into the unknown.
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Cleric
Oct 26, 2007 8:24:53 GMT -5
Post by Aedh on Oct 26, 2007 8:24:53 GMT -5
Another example of my penchant for including pictures when they perfectly match my own idea of a character's looks ...
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Cleric
Oct 26, 2007 9:30:30 GMT -5
Post by Aedh on Oct 26, 2007 9:30:30 GMT -5
Ah, Liebchen ... fuer vy you talk aboudt your Qveen Muzzer dot vay ...? Ey em not ein Monster ... She looks chust like mein own Daughter ... whom I gafe fuer zer Adoption many years ago. In fact ... *holds up picture, squinting at it through moist eyes* hmmmm ... moeglich ...
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Cleric
Oct 27, 2007 6:56:47 GMT -5
Post by Aedh on Oct 27, 2007 6:56:47 GMT -5
Interlude: Evil Cheerleaders! (Part One)“Woohoo! Let’s GO squad GO!” *unison* “Ready-O.K.! Gimme an A! … Gimme an E! …. Gimme a D! … Gimme an H! What’s that spell??! AEEeee…” *brief pause* “Um, Courtney—what does that spell?” “It the Boss’s name Kayla! Duh!”“Well duh Miss Smartyknickers— everybody knows that! But how do you SAY it?” “Umm—“ *perplexed blonde frown* “Let’s move on to the next one!!” “Alright!” “Energy—energy!!” *unison* “Ready-O.K.! 1-2-3-4! Who’s the man we’re cheering for? Aaeeeed …”“Hold it. Chelsea--um--ladies … I think we have a problem here …” [To be continued …]
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Cleric
Oct 28, 2007 17:13:44 GMT -5
Post by Mirabilis on Oct 28, 2007 17:13:44 GMT -5
Von moment liebling! *QM calls to Father who is already almost to the door at the top of the steps* Zurely you are not goink to go out zere unarmed? Zee....I haff ze secret stash of basic veaponz here! *Father comes slowly back down the steps and watches as QM takes a small remote from her pocket and presses a button. Immediately a panel underneath the rack slides open to reveal a cache of hand guns, pump action shotguns and wicked looking tazers* Help yourzelf vy don't you! *QM selects a shotgun, tucks a beretta into her waist belt and a tazer....while Father takes two berettas, the weapons she's most used to. QM turns to the red haired Amazon and gestures with her hands, speaking in a purring tone* Und you my beautiful zilent von....vot vill you have? *The giantess just looks at her for a long moment...then slowly turns to regard the weaponry, her eyes seeming to scan each piece in turn. Then she steps forward and thrusts her big hand into the pile and comes up a moment later with a machine gun trailing a belt of ammo.* Oh...ja!!! I hed forgotten about zat!! Ze only von.....must hef got buried under all ze ozer stuff und I vorgot about it! Very gut! Zo....now ve shall go up and hef some fun ja? *She uses the same hand remote and points it at the door at the top of the steps then presses another button. There is a creak and groan of many locks sliding back and as the door very slowly starts to swing inwards, they quickly and quietly come up the steps, weapons at the ready. A chorus of mad laughter and whooping echoes down the semi-lit corridor. Father looks across at QM and raises an eyebrow, then at ZeZe who is standing there looking blank as always* Huh! Sounds like they're having a bloody party...at MY expense! Right! Come on! *Father leads the way with QM close behind...while ZeZe lumbers along bringing up the rear. When they reach the end of the corridor another door faces them but this one is hanging half off it's hinges* Good grief!! They're going a bit over the top with the redecorating! Those doors are solid ebony and VERY expensive!! *Gritting her teeth in anger Father cocks her weapons, edges up to the door and carefully peers around to the main palace audience chamber, the operational hub of the building. What greets her eyes is a scene from hell. Mad Klowns dressed in outlandish and garish costumes running about howling and screeching.....throwing papers up into the air, tipping over furniture and breaking it into splinters, ripping open upholstery, swinging from the crystal chandeliers and generally doing everything in their power to destroy everything that's left in the room. Father looks back at QM who has come right up behind her and is watching the scene with an amused glint in her eyes.* I thought you said they were confiscating my stuff? This doesn't look like confiscation to me...this looks like wanton destruction!! *QM just smiles and lays a hand on Father's shoulder* Zen allow me to redrezz ze balanze! *She winks at Father, turns to ZeZe and beckons with a nod of her head, then moves around Father and steps through the door. She stands there, hands on hips defiantly for a moment, then with a sudden grin reaches back into her pocket for the remote control. Flicking another switch she points it at a place high up near the ceiling in the far corner. Immediately the air is filled with the sounds of female gasping and groaning followed by a pounding rhythm as Doro's "Tie Me Up" kicks in at full volume, filling the chamber. As the music throbs, QM cocks the pump action and strides into the melee, twirling the gun like a cheerleader's baton and turning it on the nearest Klowns who are suddenly looking up and around in confusion at this new diversion they didn't create. HAH!! Zo you vont to heff fun do you??? Ja? Vell how do you like ziz for a joke eh?? *She opens fire on the first Klown hitting him full in the chest and sending him spinning into two others behind him. Father now comes up behind her following suit and singles out the Klowns who are ripping apart her furniture...then rapidly changing direction...she picks off the obscenely grinning ones dangling from the chandeliers * Didn't anyone tell you how much I HATE Klowns? Almost as much as I hate bloody Auditors!!!! *By now the Klowns are running back and forth in a mad panic trying to avoid the hail of bullets. The unfortunate ones who manage to dodge them momentarily, blunder straight into QM and are tazered mercilessly and left in blubbering, senseless heaps on the floor. She is in her element now, laughing a loud throaty cackle and singing along to the music as the Klowns fall like ninepins. It's at that moment that a door at the far end of the hall bursts open and a troupe of lithe figures dressed from head to toe in black with only their eyes exposed come bounding into the room.....silent and agile. Father gapes at them as they pour across the floor* SHIIIIITE!! Goddamm ninjas? QM!!! Look out!!!! *QM instinctively hits the floor pulling Father down with her then twists her head to look behind her* Achtung!!! Liebling!!!! Hahaaaaa!!!! *ZeZe is calmy stepping forward and opening fire with the machine gun. The ninjas dance like strange black jerky rag dolls as they are mown down by the bullets. Those that manage to make it as far as ZeZe are picked up in her enormous hands and their necks are snapped like twigs then flung down again. Father stares on impressed as the last one is dispatched at the same time as the song finishes...and the chamber suddenly falls silent. They watch as a car tyre rolls across the room and bounces to a halt next to a pile of ex-Klowns* Why does that always happen every time there's a ruckus? *Father shakes her head and shrugs, then stands up and dusts herself off looking around at the aftermath* Got some tidying up to do here QM....you and your new friend fancy sticking around and helping me get back what's rightfully mine? I need to get hold of Prestan for starters and wring out of him what happened to all my money.......IF there's any left! *QM grins fingering her tazer* Ooh....it vil me my pleazure to extract zat informazion from him I can azzure you! Vot do you zay ZeZe? Zhall ve hev zome more vun viz zer little Zummary Kombuztion monkey? ZeZe? ZeZe....vere are you goink leibling? *The satuesque female has suddenly become alert and is doing a 180 degree turn to stare back at the door from where they first came....then with an odd sound of clicks and whirrs like a hard drive thrashing, she drops her weapons with a clatter and strides purposefully back through the door and makes her way back toward the "dungeon." QM and Father exchange worried looks* Vell ve hed better follow her...she's obviously picked up on zomethink....and votever it iz...it'z beck down in my...private qvuarters! *With weapons primed again the two of them follow at a wary distance, unsure this time of what they might face but ready to face it regardless*
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Cleric
Oct 28, 2007 19:04:50 GMT -5
Post by Aedh on Oct 28, 2007 19:04:50 GMT -5
Interlude: Evil Cheerleaders (Part Two)“Court- neee! How are we gonna cheer for someone whose name we can’t even pronounce??”“Didn’t anyone think of this?” “Now if the Boss had a regular name … like … like ‘Justin!’” “ Ewwww!! Jusss-TIN!!” “What a dorky name!” “More like … Kevin!”“Or Jason, even!” A chorus greets this. “EWWWW!” What a gay name!” “ Hell-LOO Miss Friday The Thirteenth fan!” “Yuck!” “Ladies—ladies—LAYYYYDEEZ!!” “What is is, Tawana?” The young ‘hood-wise lass addresses the group: “Ladies … We got TEN minutes to come up with a cheer for Da Boss! Now, ain’t nobody done axed … but you know whassup!! If we do good—“ “Yay!” “WOOHOO!” “Maui here we come!” “Alright!!”“LADIES! If we bolo this … well you know what happened to las’ year’s bolo squad!!” Dead silence for a moment. “Ummmm … no,” ventures one. “Eggzackly!” says Tawana grimly. “Ain’t nobody knows what happened to them!!” “Well … it’s … it’s … like, ‘Aid,’ isn’t it?” opines a small voice. “Megan … that’s not it. I heard the last person who called him that got a one-way ticket to Planet Dookie!!”A general chorus of ”EEEEEWWWWWWWWW!!” rises. “Ummmm … ‘Ayyeed?’”There’s a snort. “You call the Boss that, Chelsea … I’ll stand back and cover my eyes!!” There is general agreement to this. Then dead silence again. “What do we DO??” asks one. “Hell gals … y’all got they ell phones an’ Blackerries an’ i-Phones don’t ya?? Use ‘em!! Somebody gotta know how you say da Boss’s name!!” As one the cheerleaders reach for their devices … [To be continued …]
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Cleric
Oct 29, 2007 9:55:34 GMT -5
Post by Aedh on Oct 29, 2007 9:55:34 GMT -5
It doesn’t take EG Aedh long to cover the distance … he’s been here before—once--in an episode he’s tried unsuccessfully to forget for years. He knows the way all too well … Fluffikins lets out a frightened squeak in his head … it’s down here that he first met Fluffikins … his invisible friend and counsellor.
The clammy stonework eventually gives way and opens out into a space familiar to him from many nightmares. The manacles … the pipes ... the tubes … the pungent aroma of leather and stale perspiration … the cart with medical accessories … the whips and belts and ropes hanging in handy places … he shakes his head and makes and effort to quash the churning in his stomach. Evil he may be .. but at least it’s good, forthright, clean-cut evil … not this perversion!
He stops, adjusting his infrared-enhanced Hugo Boss glasses … peering around a corner quickly, he sees that the dreaded red couch is unoccupied. Softly, he pads forward … alert for any sign of movement.
His device vibrates, and he checks it … he’s beneath Father’s executive residence … and a green glow indicates that CCQ is within the range of the detector. He takes a few moments to look around … a row of cell doors is ranged along one side of the space.
The Evil Genius pads over warily, and peers in the first door, and the second … empty but for a few stains of unknown origin. The third, however, contains a form laying on a bench … he shines a pencil flash in, and with a shock recognises … PrestOn! The celebrated John P, Master Cleric, brought low no doubt by fiendish treatment …
“So THAT explains were he’s got to!” mutters Aedh to himself. The figure moans and stirs; no doubt if Aedh were a good guy, he’d waste precious minutes freeing the captive who’s in no shape to weapon up and help him. Fortunately, he doesn't have to go there. The big man looks around again and sees a weapons locker standing open … someone obviously has weaponed up in a hurry.
And in the doorway opposite he sees a gleam … CCQ entering, smoothly and silently … with an odd light in its eye. And—and swathed in red leather … obviously it’s fallen in with QM and its “gather mode” sent it into compliance with the dominatrix’ way of doing things!
Quickly, Fluffikins suggest a plan, which sounds risky, but it's a way to test CCQ's mode, which must be done. He draws himself erect and sends a command using his subvocal link. CCQ! The cell door there … number three, he nods. Take that door off … initiate revive mode on occupant!
CC Quattro pauses a moment … then obediently moves over to the cell door, takes hold of the barred edge and braces its big feet .. and with a slow creak, climaxing into a shriek of tearing metal, slowly rips the door off. In it moves, taking slow steps … and then kneels next to the figure. In a moment, a couple of sounds show that Preston’s free from his bonds. CCQ’s hair cascades as it puts its lips to his … its hands on his chest … and with a whining sound, it pours some of its energy into him; he groans and wraps his arms around the ‘droid, pulling himself upright as it stands. They’re both a bit wobbly …. that should clear in a moment or two, but he’s no idea how long it’s been down here … its photosensitive skin recharges its energy in sunlight, and it may not have seen the sun for awhile. A link is down though … he’s not getting its mental stream like he should be.
He makes another decision and hands his Berettas to Preston. “Come on … let’s get you out of here, Cleric.” He turns to go, but there’s a click behind him.
“Not so fast … Aedh,” says the familiar voice of Preston, weak but unmistakable. “I have you covered. Aedh … you are under arrest for sense-offence. Drop your weapon and turn around slowly.”
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Cleric
Oct 29, 2007 22:08:11 GMT -5
Post by Aedh on Oct 29, 2007 22:08:11 GMT -5
Interlude: Evil Cheerleaders (Part Three)A blizzard of desperate calls and text-messages to parents, boyfriends, and teachers yields any number of theories on ways to pronounce the mysterious four-letter name. “Aid …” “Ayeed …” “No, ladies—“ “Well that’s what my DAD says … my dad works for him!” “Personally, Brittany?” “Well … um, no...” The conference goes on. “Aid-hh …” “Eyedd …”“Tawana … what do they call him down in the ‘hood?” The black girl cocks her hands on her hips. ”BAAAD Newz!! Thass’ what we calls ‘im on mah block!” There’s silence as the cheerleaders’ invincible perkiness flows to a low ebb … one bursts into muffled sobs. “What are we gonna DO?” comes the anguished question. “I don’t wanna--DIE!!” Just then a quiet, cool voice speaks. “ 'Ay-gh.' ‘Ay’ as in ‘tray,’ and then you kinda shove a ‘G’ sound over the top of your tongue like trying to say ‘great’ while you’re in the middle of a yawn.” The dispirited cheerleaders look up to see Mamba standing nearby. “Ayygh …?” tries one. Several more follow suit. One speaks up. “’Aygh??' What kind of a gay name is THA--??” Quickly she’s smothered. “Shut UP Kayla!” “Dork-brain!” A chorus of ”DUUUHH’s” breaks out. “Well really, Miss Mamba … it’s, um, kinda cool.” “Irish, right?” Mamba nods. “Irish is cool!” comes a voice with a couple of agreements. “And SEXY!” says another. “It is kinda hard to cheer though … I mean … how do ya … shout it out??” asks one thoughtfully. Mamba smiles and gives her short skirt a straighten. “Well, that’s what we wondered on my squad—oh, a few years ago.” “Miss Mamba—“ ”YOU cheered??” “That SOOO Roxx-Out-Loud!!” A babble of voices breaks out, asking her a dozen questions at once. She holds up her hands with a laugh. “I’ll show you the one WE won with,” says Mamba. “Gimme those poms there …” She takes a pair of plack pompoms—they look a little odd with her immaculate hair, shades, smooth sharkskin suit, and stiletto heels, but she kicks off the pumps and assumes a professional-looking stance … takes a breath … and begins, with appropriate moves: Ready—O.K.! F! R! E-A-K! Do the Freak the Aedh-way! Get yourself way down low! Swing your body to and fro! Victory! Victory! Evil Genius VICTORY! Split the V! Dot the I! Curl the C! T-O-R-Y! T-O-R-Y! F! R! E-A-K! …[/b] “Then you go on just like that,” Mamba finishes. “You see—‘Aedh-way’ sounds like segue, close enough. So he didn’t notice that we didn’t get it right on.” She hands the poms back, to enthusiastic murmurs of admiration, approbation, and general sucking-up. “Of course YOU can’t do that one,” she says. “You can’t re-use cheers. You try that … you’ll find yourselves hitch-hiking back to Kokomo or Texarkana or wherever you came from. I will ensure that personally.”“What do you say then?” asks one of the suddenly once-again-downcast group as Mamba steps back into her Etienne Aigner heels. She gives them a meaningless little fem-to-fem smile. “This is the Boss you’re dealing with … he’s a very practical man. He prefers actions over words. If you can’t get his name quite right but you do something ‘rad,’ he may--um, overlook the deficiency. Oh, and hurry,” she adds, checking her Cartier watch. “Whatever you’re gonna do, you have … two minutes to get it together.” Then she picks up her attache case and strides away, humming to herself. [To be continued ...]
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Cleric
Oct 30, 2007 16:24:38 GMT -5
Post by Mirabilis on Oct 30, 2007 16:24:38 GMT -5
*Father and QM edge warily around the door, weapons at the ready and stand motionless side by side at the top of the steps observing the scene unfolding below. Father looks across at QM, her eyes indicating complete surprise. QM however just smiles in a thoroughly self-indulgent manner that leaves nothing to the imagination and leans in to Father speaking in a low whisper* IIzn't it too deliziouz??? Prezton is rezcued by EG Aedh und revived by my ZeZe......but EG Aedh iz now HIZ prizoner! Hah! *A frown suddenly crosses her face however as she looks back at Father* Are you alright my dear? You are lookink a little...pale. In fekt.....you are lookink pozitively .....tranzparent!! *Father passes a hand across her forehead suddenly feeling dizzy and light-headed, her mind reeling* Father: Something is VERY wrong!Evil Overlord: Oh....you finally surfaced again did you? What do you mean...wrong?Father: Can't you feel it? A pull....I dunno.....like a rubber band stretched too tight that's about to snap??? Arghhhh.....something......something......OH NOOOOOOOO!!Evil Overlord: What the......*Father looks down at her hands which are shimmering now and turning opaque* No....it can't be!!! I have no teleport bracelet !!! How..........unless the transfer was defective....flawed......temporary....... Aaarggghhh!!! *KERRR-TWANGGGG!!!* *A moment later Father's body winks out of existence for a brief second and then re-appears........well....... somebody re-appears who looks a lot like her....but THIS Father looks around completely bewildered....until her eyes focus for a moment on the darkly clad tall figure below her, who is in turn standing looking down the twin barrels of berettas being pointed at him by a disheveled looking Cleric* Aedh? Aedhy baby........is that you? Am I still dreaming...ummm......where's Dipsy?? Nursey! Bring me......ummm....more Tubby porridge......Again!....Again!.....Uh-Oh!!!! Ohhhhh...... *She wobbles, staggers and passes out in a deep swoon that sends her tumbling down the steps to land unconscious at her husband's feet. The room goes deathly silent* *TWWWWANG-POP* *Father comes to, leaning up against something cold and metal...a chiller cabinet? She looks down confused to see she's now dressed in a loose fitting long sleeved red and blue coverall, with flat rubber-soled canvas pumps on her feet. Shaking her head muzzily she manages to get shakily to her feet and focus on her surroundings....aisles and aisles of brightly lit shelves* Father: Buy Get One Free?Evil Overlord: Extra Clubcard points on all marked items??Father: Special Offer...this week only???Evil Overlord: Customer Satisfaction Guaranteed? Oh... no.....Father & Evil Overlord: EVERY...LITTLE...HELPS??
............!!!!!!!!!
GAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!! NOOOO......NOT BLOODY....F***ING TESCO!!!!!!*She wobbles, staggers and passes out in a deep swoon, hitting the cold tile floor like a sack of potatoes (buy one get one free of course...with extra Clubcard points!)*
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Cleric
Oct 30, 2007 18:21:21 GMT -5
Post by Aedh on Oct 30, 2007 18:21:21 GMT -5
Preston wavers not at the sudden arrival of a tumbling body, but merely backs slowly up, his cool glance taking everything in … his trained Cleric mind evaluating everything at accelerating speed. “You know this woman?” he asks curtly. Aedh’s heart skips a beat, but he puts on his own Cleric manner. “Cleric, everyone knows this woman. It’s Father. She arrived here via a portal, and all evidence indicates that she was an uninvited guest … whose host— our host--has probably just detected her. And, I venture, us as well.” Preston indicates with a gesture for the Evil Genius to remain motionless. Then he says loudly: “I’m calling for a backup Sweeper team—this site requires securing, confiscation, and processing of EC-10 materials.” The brings the Queen Mother down, slowly, menacingly. “Himmel! Herr Preston … Ey don’t ZINK so!” With her own weapon ready, she barks: ”ZeZe! Raus! Machen Sie Schnell!” The large android doesn’t move. QM growls at the men: ”Vy you little--!”Interlude: Evil Cheerleaders (Part Four)The tableau is suddenly interrupted by a group of young women in two-piece black-and-white PVC outfits and platform boots, picked out with red details, who burst into the room. All are carrying weapons, and quickly line up along one wall. Three are packing Street Sweeper automatic shotguns; one has a Sten gun, another a German MP-43, another an AK-47, another a .45 Magnum pistol, and one carries what looks alarmingly like a shoulder-fired antitank missile launcher. One--Miss .45 Mag—shouts: “Ready-O.K.!” With more or less level weapons they chant: “Cheerleaders rule! Leather girls drool! Get out Boss while you still may! Loyal minions save the day! Yaaaaaaa—KNOW IT!” One of them adds: “Woohoo!” “Chelsea— SHUSH!” “Puh-LEEZE!” mutters another. Complete silence follows as Aedh, QM, and Preston stare at them incredulously. CCQ is impassive, as always. “Um … ladies—“ begins the Evil Genius slowly. The missile launcher wobbles a bit on the shoulder of a tall blonde, who rolls her eyes. “I am NOT hitch-hiking back to Kokomo!” she says with anguish. Another asides to her: “Um— Brittany … you’re from Santa Rosa— remember?”“What EVERRR!! I don’t CARE what’s in my past … I know that all-expense-paid trip to Maui is in OUR future … or else we’re not gonna HAVE a future!!” Her finger tightens on the launch trigger. “Thass’ right!” says Tawana, snicking off the safety on her Sten gun. “So you git yeself outta heah Boss … ‘n’ have them e-tickets waitin’ fo’ us. Yo’ home girls ’ll clean up da mess down heah!” “You like ‘action’— YOU GOT IT Boss!” says a brunette. “That’s RIGHT!” adds another. “We’re your ladies for that!!!”At that moment, a video monitor mounted in a corner crackles to life, and Mamba appears on it, in an office. Aedh’s office. She’s holding up a sheaf of papers. “Actually … I have the e-tickets right here,” she says coolly--leaning back in her chair, which happens to be Aedh’s own richly-tanned-with-select-Caucasian-lambskin executive office chair. She takes a puff on one of his custom-rolled Cohibas. “Make it easy on yourselves … just take ‘em all out. There’s a new Boss in the house, ladies. One who knows you—knows what you’ve been through … who’ll make sure you get the breaks you worked so hard for.” Some of the cheerleaders trade sidewise looks … a few shrugs and nods pass. ”Ach! Vot dreachery iss zis?” mutters the Queen Mother, peering at the screen … without her eyeglasses, as usual, as the Evil Genius puts a handkerchief to his face, as if to stifle a sneeze. “Iss zat you, mein Daughter? Loogk … loogk into mein Eyes, mein own little Maedchen … you who kem from zer Librian Home fuer Girls zis many years ago!!” Mamba leans into the 'cam, looking intently. “Mom …? YOU are my MOTHER?”QM nods, tears running down her cheeks freely. “Ja … Helga, ey nemdt you.” Mamba’s lip curls. “Jeesh ... that would explain how I got to be so evil!” she says with contempt. Then, after a moment: “What are you waiting for, ladies?!! Do it— now! Let’s rock ‘n’ roll!” “You heard the lady!” says Miss .45 Mag. “Let’s DO IT!” “Maui here we come!!” “WooHoo!” “Ready-O.K.!” Fingers seat themselves on triggers … Aedh holds up one hand … the one that’s not manipulating the handkerchief against his nose and mouth. “Allow me firthzt to say ladiethz—mmf--you are the BADDETHZT szquad of evil cheerleadersz yet! Leaving the sidelinethz and actually entering the game to tip the zscore—truly--imprethively evil—mmph. May we know your namethz before you eggthecute uth?” There are a few small smiles. “Why not??” “Sound off!” “Courtney!” “Chelsea!” “Brittany!” “Kayla!” “Tawana!” “Megan!” “Kirsten …” says the seventh, slowly … the eighth opens her mouth but no sound comes out. Aedh, handkerchief still in place, bends to examine the body on the floor … his heart tells him it is indeed Rima. He checks her vital signs quickly—then, satisfied, he walks over … taps each cheerleader … then goes and taps Preston and Queen Mother. All are completely petrified--paralysed in place, thanks to CCQ’s emergency silent response—release of a certain gas, which doesn’t penetrate the specially-treated fibers of his handkerchief. Then he looks up at Mamba and gives the thumb-up. “You played your part to perfection, Mamba,” he says, more clearly now. “They certainly passed the test. Pure brainless evil, extremely energetic, and young and fit into the bargain … ideal raw materiel for my next group of experimental fem-bots.” Mamba stands up, taking another puff on her Cohiba. “My pleasure, boss ... but did we have to bring them in on it? QM and Preston? When they come around, they’re gonna wonder what the heck happened … Oh--and is that woman really my birth mother? Tell me my real name is not HELGA ... There is such a thing as too much information you know.” He shrugs. “A little injection … a post-hypnotic suggestion … it’ll be completely erased. And I’m afraid Queeny’s not your mum, dear … her real daughter followed in her footsteps, only worse.” “Not another Fetish Queen?” Aedh shakes his head dolefully. “A—a Siberian prison camp commandant? A terrorist? A—an-- Auditor?”“Nope … I’m afraid--she became--“ he swallows with difficulty—“a Sarbanes-Oxley compliance officer.” Mamba lets out sardonic laugh. “Crikey! And they say WE’RE evil!” “I know. It’s terrible what depths human nature can sink to—as an Evil Genius I’m all too aware … " Mamba softens a moment. "You will tell me who my real parents are--someday ... right?" "Yes. I gave you my word as an Evil Genius. It will not be very long ... and that day will be your day of freedom. You will then be free to leave my employ if you wish, and go where you want, and do what you will ... not before that, however." She nods. "Well, have a crew come down here to collect our prizes if you please, Mamba—they’ll be frozen for twenty minutes at least, but take no chances. I’ll treat you to a shopping spree at Galeries Lafayette, kicked off by dinner at Maison Grenier … you’ve earned it. Come, CCQ,” he says … with a brief instruction the Amazon ‘droid takes Rima gently up, and together they move off through the doorway, back the way he came.
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Cleric
Nov 1, 2007 13:38:50 GMT -5
Post by Mirabilis on Nov 1, 2007 13:38:50 GMT -5
*Father comes to again, her head is swimming and she feels nauseas. She is lying on her side on a cot, her body facing a plane brick wall painted a utilitarian grey. Glancing down she sees she's still wearing the blue and red coveralls.* Father: Oh god...so it wasn't a bad dream....we were in a Tesco...right?
Evil Overlord: I.....dunno....I'm trying to concentrate very hard on not letting us throw up at this precise moment! Where the hell are we now? *Very slowly she rolls over onto her back and stares up at the ceiling. It's a standard white paneled job with embedded spotlights and ventilation ducts.....too small, she observes with a snort of irony....for anybody to crawl through and escape* Father: I have no idea where this is...but it doesn't look like the Ritz Carlton that's for sure! Evil Overlord: Well maybe our cellmate over there can give us a clue. *She manages to lever herself up painfully and swing her legs around to place her feet, still in the canvass pumps, onto the tiled floor. Then with an effort of will she staggers to her feet and takes a few hesitant steps toward a cot against the opposite wall where someone is lying, completely covered in a coarse grey blanket* Father: Be careful! We don't know who....or what it is for that matter!
Evil Overlord: Well whoever it is...we need some answers! *She pauses as she reaches the cot and moves to grasp the edge of the blanket at what she assumes is the head end. Then with one swift tug she pulls it back to uncover what's underneath* Father & Evil Overlord: AAAargggghhh!!! What new torment is THIS??? What's HE doing here?? Goddammit!!!! *She whirls and runs to the cell door and starts pounding furiously with her fists* YOU LET ME OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!!!! YOU HEAR ME?!!!!! I AM FATHER DAMMIT...AND I DEMAND SOME RESPECT!!!! HOW DARE YOU LOCK ME IN A CELL WITH.......WITH THAT.... BLOODY AUDITOR!!!!!!!!
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Cleric
Nov 5, 2007 0:21:28 GMT -5
Post by Aedh on Nov 5, 2007 0:21:28 GMT -5
Though the return did not take long, it is after midnight by the time EG Aedh lifts his wife’s body from CCQ’s arms and lays her in the big bed in St Tropez. He has several things to do, and they are all clamouring for immediate personal attention, and it's no help at all that Fluffikins seems to be out for a nap.
First, he instructs CCQ to lay down in a certain position over by one wall, and then taps her disable point. That will put her into shutdown mode until he can get her in and have complete diagnostics run. Then he speed-dials. “Twenty-one? Yes … I need to see you in the master bedroom immediately—I … No, Twenty-one, let me rephrase--WE—my wife and I--need to see you in the master bedroom immedately. And summon the med-team here, Priority Yellow. Yes … Mme Aedh is unwell. Make sure you knock first—I have a few seconds of recording to do.”
He strides to the escritoire again, opening a cunningly-disguised wall panel, and throws a few switches. Then he stands in a certain place on the floor, assumes an easy stance, and says: “Holorecording, date five Ides November, time zero-zero-thirty-six. Well, kids … your mommy’s back safely. I said I’d get her, and I did. She’s not feeling well, though, so you will have to go easy on her to-day.” He gives a grin. “She’ll be better very soon though. But there is a bit more to this than her just leaving. We don’t know why, and she’s sleeping, so she can’t tell us. I need to go find out what the matter is. I love you all very much, and your Maman loves you very much. I’ll see you all again very soon.” He gives a wave, clicks ‘Save,’ and just then comes a knock. He goes over and lets in Mlle Tilly, with Olga and Denis, the new bodyguards who came on at midnight. They take in the scene calmly, professionally, as Aedh ushers them in.
“She fell down some stairs … nothing seems to be amiss other then a bruise or two. And she did get a lungful of CCQ’s paratoxin, I’m afraid—it couldn’t be helped. They won’t be able to help her until that works off, which should be in a few minutes. CCQ itself is in shutdown mode. Olga, you will stand by to assist the med-team. Make sure you know who everyone is. You know the procedure.”
Olga, a small, slender young woman with chiselled Slavic features and a crown of blonde hair topping her head, setting off her grey Cleric coat, nods once. “Any irregularity …the suspect will be detained. Any adverse action—the suspect will be terminated.”
“Exactly. Denis, you will conceal CCQ as best you can, and ensure that the med-team do not attempt any assistance with it. It shouldn’t be here, but it is, and there’s nothing for it right now. No one in this place except you six bodyguards, Rima, and Mlle Tilly even knows of its existence. You will take all necessary measures and receive any help necessary to keep things that way until the dev team arrives to collect it.”
“Vas-y, Monsieur,” says the big, dark Frenchman in his black coat. “You may depend upon me.”
“I always have, Denis,” says the Boss with a twitch of the lips that might be the sign of a repressed smile. "And Tilly ... I will leave ultimate responsibility in your capable hands. If there is any hint of uncooperativeness, those people will report to me in person."
"Yes, monsieur," she replies easily, looking very much a security officer despite the white dress and strappy sandals.
>< >< ><
A few minutes later, as the plans laid above are transpiring, Aedh's comset vibrates. He takes the call out in the upper atrium.
“Yes? Ah, Number Sixteen—I was about to call you anyway. What do you have for me? I see … you’ve captured Father. Mmm-h’mm … well a quicker way to verify would have been to use a pepper-pot …. mmm--h’mm. And you did what with her …? Oh dear … Oh no, that will never do. Well, she is our dearly beloved head of State you know, whose every instruction guides us all to being healthier, wealthier, wiser, and more sensitive and environmentally-aware citizens. Or was the same, rather, until … yes, I take your point that ‘Libria does not have a tradition of living ex-Fathers mucking about,’ as you say—no, I do not agree that that is an anomaly which ought to be recified immediately while we have the chance. No, my wife would most certainly not make a perfectly serviceable substitute—Number Sixteen, might I remind you just who is the Evil Genius here?” he asks, his voice sinking ominously.
“Thank you. No … inform Father that I have a modest and mutually beneficial proposition to make. If she cares to entertain it, let her await my arrival in slightly more salubrious and less Auditor-infested premises. If not, she can entertain herself listening to Mr Peabody discourse on the debate about whether push-up bras and Botox treatments for middle-aged female executives qualify as deductible ‘maintenance expences’ under Paragraph 692 of the revised Revenue Code … Mmm-h’mm. Now—contact Number Ninety-three and have a dev team sent around to St Tropez to collect CCQ. Oh … and that prisoner? I’d forgotten about him. Have him fed to the crocodiles.” He hits the ‘off’ button and strides toward the back stairs, humming one of his favourite ditties.
Why’d ya have to do it—Evil Genius? Was it justified in your mind? Why’d ya put us through it—Evil Genius? Was it justified in your mind, Anytime you held a grudge …?
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Cleric
Nov 7, 2007 9:08:15 GMT -5
Post by Witcher Wolf on Nov 7, 2007 9:08:15 GMT -5
(Dies laughing - I had to catch up recently, just because!)
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Cleric
Nov 8, 2007 3:00:17 GMT -5
Post by Vespertilio on Nov 8, 2007 3:00:17 GMT -5
In the cell, Father, still recoiling at the sight of the Auditor, hears skittering from the tiny air vent above. She looks up and sees a pair of shining, green eyes peering down at her. A little paw reaches through the grate and drops something into Father's lap, a tiny little comm-set...
Cautiously, she picks it up and puts it to her ear. “Hello...?”
“Hello!!!” a cheery and familiar voice answers.
“Doctor?!? Is that you?”
“Oh yes! Absolutely!! Very definitely me !!!”
“But how did you---”
“I tracked you through my sonic screwdriver, which I notice, that you don't have anymore.” The Doctor notes disapprovingly.
“Anyway” he continues brightly, “I thought so long as I was here, you might be interested in a sort of rescue, if you need it, that is, for all I know you like being locked in tiny, boring rooms with Auditors...”
“GET ME OUT OF HERE *NOW*!!!”
Father blinks is surprise, her feet are now dangling off the edge of the cot, she is half her normal size, “WHAT?!?”
“That would be the Katzmins, that's what those little cat-monkeys are called by the way, they have a reallyreallyreally brilliant defense mechanism! When they feel threatened, they can literally shrink the perceived threat down to something small enough for them to deal with (or eat, they're omniverous, you should see some of the things they'll eat, bleugh). Keep shouting and you should be small enough to get through the air vent in no time!”
The Katzmin dangles a heavy length of twine through the grate as Father continues to shrink...
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Cleric
Nov 8, 2007 13:39:38 GMT -5
Post by Aedh on Nov 8, 2007 13:39:38 GMT -5
At the Monastery … [/b]the female Cleric Trainer for Unarmed Combat is looking over her roster for the day. Her face, standing well out from its tight, businesslike bun of hair, is serious, angular—the face of many a teacher. She’s thirtyish; not old, but a figure of adult authority to most of the trainees, who are ten years or more behind her, and very good at her job. As a former field operative, then liaison officer, she’s battle-hardened and wise in the ways of bureaucracy. Which is fortunate for her, because she’s going to need the latter part now.She lets her clipboard snap down and turns to the administrator beside her. “Comrade Cleric, I feel unwell. I require a sick day.” The tall Admin in his black coat looks her up and down emotionlessly. “You appear to me to be in perfect health, Comrade Cleric.” In good Librian fashion, she repeats her statement … with her finger resting on a certain name on the roster. Her meaning does not go unheeded by the Admin. But he says simply: “Request denied, Comrade Cleric. The inclusion of trainee Lin Dzee Lwan in your class does not constute grounds for receiving a sick day.” “Comrade Cleric, have you ever worked personally with that, um, young person?” “Not in training.” For an answer, the trainer picks up a remote, quickly shuffles through a few video recordings, and finds the files she wants. Clip One … a rather pretty young lady—the trainee under discussion—seated at the back of the class in her uniform gi like the others, begins fidgeting. Then she raises her hand with a question. She is called upon. Without the usual formal salutation due a teacher, she opens up: “This outfit—sorry—just not, um .. like, doing it for me. I look like some kind of dork. It bags in all the wrong places.” The teacher’s reply is somewhat muffled, but a cross look appears on the young lady’s face. ”So? That’s exactly the point! I don’t rate ‘the same uniform that everyone has!!' I’m a STAR!”Another muffled reply, and the young lady whips out a mobile phone. “That’s it. I’m calling my agent … Saul baby? Yeah, look, I need a new class … this old prune teaching it—I can’t work with her! She has NO understanding of an artist’s needs …” Clip Two … The same young lady, now clad in a designer blue gi, is going over some basic moves with a partner. She bends over in the middle of a kata move, and suddenly grimaces. “OW!! Break … break!! Can’t we try something a little less—um— strenuous? Or else get a stunt double in here??” Clip Three … The young lady, in her designer gi again, is staging an argument with an unknown person. "LOOK Miss Slavedriver!!” She pulls up a trouser leg to reveal an ankle bracelet. "YOU ever try doing a kick with one of these puppies on?? As if it were MY fault that stupid judge decided to throw the goddamn book at me!!” Clip Four … The young lady is twirling a short bo staff as if it were a cheerleader’s baton. “Hey—look at THIS! I learned this on the set of ‘Kirby & The Bean!’” The baton flies out of her hand and cold-cocks another trainee. Her face becomes crestfallen. “Oopsies … sorry there—um--whoever you are …” Clip Five … The young lady, seated at the rear of the class, with a rather glazed expression on her face, slowly slumps face-down. “She was, upon testing, found to have a blood alcohol content of .13,” adds the trainer dryly. “At nine in the morning.” She clicks off. “She’s a challenging student,” allows the Admin. “She’s been through four teachers, all of whom certified her as impossible. And the day anyone puts a loaded Cleric Beretta in her hand is the day I leave for Tasmania,” says the trainer tartly. “What I want to know, Comrade Cleric, is why she wasn’t expelled six months ago.” “Miss Lwan has, ah, connections,” says the Admin. “I’d rather go back to flushing armed Resisters out of bunkers in the Nethers,” says the trainer. “Perhaps I need to clarify. Miss Lwan has … connections,” repeats the Admin, tracing a swift “A” in the air. “Refuse to train her, and you won’t find yourself in the Nethers. You’ll find yourself on Planet Dookie.” The trainer blenches … bows … and turns, steeling herself for the ordeal. She does not neglect to tie a sacred headband on; mutter a quick orison; down a quick cup of sake; and leave the room with a hearty shout of “BANZAI!!”
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Cleric
Nov 8, 2007 15:38:59 GMT -5
Post by clericjay on Nov 8, 2007 15:38:59 GMT -5
Interlude: Evil Cheerleaders (Part Three)[To be continued ...] ROFL ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D I love this stuff! It's just simple, thrilling and extremely funny! This is a good stuff for a short movie! If I had some cheerleaders and your agreement, I'd do this right after you'd finished it. (I believe that you have a great idea for the final in the back of your mind. ) LOL Can't stop laughing ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D
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Cleric
Nov 8, 2007 16:28:19 GMT -5
Post by Aedh on Nov 8, 2007 16:28:19 GMT -5
Absolutely. This is by no means a "closed shop." If you want to stage a Sweepers' Strike, or new candidate for Father's (now somewhat ramshackle) office, or a Resistance offensive action coordinated by some leader .... jump right in!
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Cleric
Nov 8, 2007 23:15:46 GMT -5
Post by Vespertilio on Nov 8, 2007 23:15:46 GMT -5
[Nicely done Vesper! ;D I'm still not sure if I'll be coming back to this thread any time soon though.....motivation is sadly lacking at the moment. ] Awww... *(((huggses)))* I understand about lack of motivation... (but Father's out of the cell now, anytime you're ready to come back )!
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Cleric
Nov 9, 2007 11:47:44 GMT -5
Post by Aedh on Nov 9, 2007 11:47:44 GMT -5
This is a good stuff for a short movie! If I had some cheerleaders and your agreement, I'd do this right after you'd finished it. Well, you have girls. Cheerleading outfits for them are available on eBay.de for around 10 Euros under Kleidung & Accesoires, and as long as proper credit is given for "original story ..." This is why I do what I do. By posting my work free online here and in other places, I hope to inspire people and get them to think. If someone takes one of my ideas and develops it successfully, I am delighted. ;D
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Cleric
Nov 11, 2007 12:46:12 GMT -5
Post by Aedh on Nov 11, 2007 12:46:12 GMT -5
In his office ... [/b] the Evil Genius, winding down a conference with Samira and Bling the Merciless, looks as a newspaper that his security chief has tossed on the table. "It's not only bad enough that Father's escaped ... it's even worse. She's escaped and is giving press conferences." she says acidly. He picks up the paper ... and reads ... "Good Lord," he sighs. "You'd think she had her hands full with just what's going on locally!" "Well, politicians often like to go overseas to float trial balloons," Bling observes, manipulating his inch-long fingernails. "I've had it," Aedh sighs. "At least with her behind the vidscreen and in charge, we knew what to expect. Perhaps the conversion of the old Equilibrium Tower into a one-million-square-foot City Centre Megatesco will have to wait. I think it's time to talk."
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Cleric
Nov 11, 2007 13:32:10 GMT -5
Post by clericjay on Nov 11, 2007 13:32:10 GMT -5
This is a good stuff for a short movie! If I had some cheerleaders and your agreement, I'd do this right after you'd finished it. Well, you have girls. Cheerleading outfits for them are available on eBay.de for around 10 Euros under Kleidung & Accesoires, and as long as proper credit is given for "original story ..." This is why I do what I do. By posting my work free online here and in other places, I hope to inspire people and get them to think. If someone takes one of my ideas and develops it successfully, I am delighted. ;D Thanks for doing my work! (Inventing a good story and doing some research for me.) ;DBut I don't trust Ebay, because they sold a boot on Ebay, but they didn't told the costumer that this boat was lying on the bottom of a lake. (This really happened.) But that's no problem, because my mother is tailor and I just need some good construction sketches or pictures. But this is a interesting story I could work on next year. ;D (Of course you would see the result.)I'm also thinking about good stories, but I'm no "Evil Genius". (But I'm working on it.) I'm still waiting for your continuing of the cheerleaders story, but I don't want to disturb your idea, because I want to see how a real "Evil Genius" would finish it.
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