Tales of the Parodyverse

Post By

killer shrike returns to normalcy with a weekly story
Thu Sep 01, 2005 at 11:33:35 pm EDT
Subject
Artistic Endeavors
[ New ] [ Email ] [ Print ] [ RSS ] [ Tales of the Parodyverse ]
Next In Thread >>


Artistic Endeavors


Note: this story takes place after “Finding the Mark,” which is only half-finished, but writing this at a rest stop outside of Ruston, LA was more fun.

Fleabot navigated the thicket of deep pile carpeting that covered the floor of the atrium. He hopped onto the headrest of the chair where Hallie sat sketching, “What’s that? Homework?”

“Go away,” the green-hued hologram muttered as she attempted to transfer the images of a fruit bowl and the shadows it cast from the sill to her blank page.

“Hmmm,” the miniscule mechanical stroked his chin deliberatively as he peered down at the work in progress, “I guess I can see the resemblance. It’s a portrait of the Manga Shoggoth riding in a canoe, right?”

Hallie glared over her shoulder at her friend, “Go away. I’m dealing with enough distractions without you putting in your two cents.”

“Geez, what’s with the artistic temperament?”

“I just-“ her eyes became slightly glassy, a sure sign she was interfacing with the mansion’s computer systems. When her focus returned her gaze became remarkably sharp and grim, “Damn it! That makes it five times he’s rebooted! What is his problem?”

Fleabot waited for further elucidation.

“It’s Epitome. He’s been working on one of the mansion’s PCs and keeps shutting down and starting over.”

“Oh. What’s he working on?”

“How should I know?” Hallie objected, swiveling in the chair so that she could face her friend, “Don’t give me that look.”

“What look would that be?” Fleabot said with some innocence.

Hallie stared at her friend for several moments before replying, “I think Epitome’s trying to design a webpage. At least, he keeps accessing the software for it.”

“Ah. Well, maybe you should go help him. Offer to be his tutor.”

Fleabot saw a glimpse of dread momentarily cross the woman’s face, “He can figure it out for himself,” she declared.

“I don’t know; Epitome is fifteen years behind the technological learning curve, thanks to his condition. And, from what brief conversations I’ve had with the man, he doesn’t seem quite as, uh, savvy.”

Hallie grunted, “Fine: I suppose it’s my job to help Legionnaires with their computer problems.”

“There you go. You kids have fun.”

Fleabot smirked as the hologram called him a bad name and vanished to perform her duties as the Lair Legion’s technical support.

*****


“What seems to be the problem, Mr. Epitome?” Hallie asked dispassionately as she materialized in the mansion’s computer lab.

Dominic Clancy ran a hand through his closely cropped hair, “I’m not sure. This hunk of junk,” he gestured to the computer, “keeps freezing up on me.”

“I see.”

The Man of Might noted the look of consternation across the AI’s face, “I didn’t mean to offend you, or the computer, if it’s a, uh, friend of yours or something,” Dominic’s interactions with the Parodyverse had forced him to broaden his understanding of the concept of sentience.

“I’m not offended. And the computer’s no friend of mine. I’m not compatible with Macs.”

“Oh. That’s a joke, right?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes,” Hallie replied, surprised to see a flash of relief cross the big man’s features. Either he was putting on an excellent act, or Fleabot was right, “You’re trying to design a webpage.”

He nodded, “The Panser Institute wants me to have a blog, where I write about me and my work. It’s a bit self-aggrandizing, but they’re paying the bills.”

Hallie scowled inwardly. The Panser Institute was a Washington based think tank that had ties to a number of figures who had spoken out against the Legion in the past. Epitome had gone to work for them as an in-house “meta agent” after resigning from the Office of Paranormal Security.

“OK, I can help you to set up something.”

“Great,” Epitome smiled, “The graphics are what’s giving me trouble. I want to have some animation to distract people from my bland writing style. Waving flags, screaming eagles, things of that nature.”

“Sure. We can….” the hologram paused as she mentally scrolled through what Epitome had typed so far, “Wait; this is about the Legion!”

“Well, yes,” the American Archtype admitted, “the page is supposed to be a journal of my work and opinions reached while operating in the sphere of meta-crisis response,” which was Epitome’s term for ‘superheroing.’

Hallie gave Dominic a stern look and quoted his latest entry, “If De Brown Streak truly wanted to be taken seriously as a mutate rights activist, he would refrain from behavior that plays to Homo peculiaris’s worst stereotypes: the disdain for authority, the runaway libido!?! How could you write this?”

Dominic’s face hardened, “Because it’s the truth?”

“Maybe in your mind,” the hologram countered, “but to me it sounds like libel.”

“I believe the incidents I reference in the text more than inoculate me from such charges.”

Hallie noted how officious Epitome’s speech had become. It sounded like old times.

“Even if what you wrote is true, its wrong to criticize him like this.”

“Like what?”

“You’re airing the team’s dirty laundry in public!”

“Clement and Foxglove made public attacks on me all the time,” Epitome stated flatly, “I think I have the same right to point out the deficiencies of their characters.”

“OK, yes, but there are extenuating circumstances-“

Dominic interrupted, “Right, because Clement is Clement and I’m me. Everybody is equal in the Lair Legion, though some are more equal than others.”

Hallie put her hands on her hips, “Oh, quit your whining! This isn’t about you. It’s about Uhuna and Josh. They’re both in a tough place right now and don’t need you bringing up things that might impugn DBS’s motives.”

Dominic was ready with a stinging retort that would have summarized his view of the mutate/Abhuman connection, but something made him stop, “Fine,” he shrugged.

“What’s that mean?”

“You win. I won’t post it.”

“Really?” the hologram was taken aback, “Thanks.”

Dominic smirked slightly, “Don’t be so shocked. Its possible to appeal to my sense of charity. Now, about those eagles…”

Hallie smiled and leaned forward to get a better view of the computer screen, resting her hand on Epitome’s strong shoulder. It was an unnecessary proximic, given her omniscient awareness of the Mansion’s operating systems: an anthropomorphic gesture that only served the purpose of bringing Hallie and Mr. Epitome closer together.

For the moment, neither seemed to object.









cpe-24-160-18-76.sw.res.rr.com (24.160.18.76) U.S. Company
Microsoft Internet Explorer 6/Windows XP (0 points)
[ New ] [ Email ] [ Print ] [ RSS ] [ Tales of the Parodyverse ]
Follow-Ups:

Echo™ v2.4 © 2003-2005 Powermad Software
Copyright © 2004-2005 by Mangacool Adventure