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Thus spake the Great Man (or Visionary, if you are not Asil or possibly Caphan and female).
Okay, so participation is down to a very few daily posters and assorted other occasional ones... Probably not the best time to launch an epic round robin. Which is why, of course, I'm launching this non-epic one.
Here are the rules: There is no plot. Nobody should try to squeeze in a plot. That doesn't mean that the stories can't interconnect, mind you... but nobody start anything that somebody else will have to finish. Instead, just go with the idea that it's a slow night at the mansion, and the team is killing time hanging out, watching television, and discussing matters from the trivial to the personal. It's a chance to see some interactions we haven't seen before. And the best part is, they don't have to lead anywhere! You could add a couple of pages of dialog, or just a paragraph. Think of it as regular chat room discussions, but "in character". Or just an opportunity to do some vignettes. Or... well, whatever you want, really.
Just... you know… without plots.
A few notes to explain some of the items in continuity:
Visionary
Visionary entered the darkened kitchen with the empty popcorn bowl and fumbled for the light switch. Before he could find it, however, something soft and curvy and smelling very pretty hit his chest sobbing. "Er… Pricilla?" he ventured. "Liu Xi? Kerry? Asil? Do you suppose you could give me a hint, as I kinda just realized it could take a while otherwise…" He finally managed to find the wall switch and the overhead lamp illuminated the distraught features of a puffy-eyed Abhuman. "Uhuna?" he managed. "This is a new one…"
"Oh, Visionary… I don't know what to do…" she sobbed, sniffling into his coat and wrapping her arms around him.
"Er… yes… well…" the baffled Regular managed, holding his hands away from her as if she were covered with wet paint. "About… what, exactly?"
"Everyone hates Josh, and it's all my fault!"
"No it's not!" he replied quickly, grabbing her a tissue from the counter and leading her to a seat at the table. "I mean… No they don't. They're pretty upset with him, sure… but they don't really hate Josh… Well, maybe Epitome. But not everyone. I don't."
"That's why I came to you…" Uhuna admitted. "I knew you'd understand. Hallie says that you have a knack for making people feel better about their problems."
He brightened visibly. "Hallie said that?"
She nodded and dabbed her eyes the the Kleenex he had offered. "And she said that you were involved in so many inappropriate relationships that you couldn't possibly be judgmental about ours without being a two-faced sleaze."
"Er…"
"I mean, after all… you're sleeping with your teammate's sister. And you took her to bed the same night you found out that's who she was… when Josh didn't even know yet!"
"Well…"
"And then you told everyone, when she had asked you to keep it a secret… right after trying to have sex with her the first time. You know… before you snuck away to have sex again with her behind Josh's back, knowing he'd be upset."
"Um, that's not quite how I would…"
"I mean, here he finally finds out he has a long lost sister, and not only are you having constant sex with her despite his concerns, you're getting more of her free time than he is..."
He blanched. "I didn't really think of it in those…"
"And then there's your cavorting with that Liu Xi girl, and all the whispers about how you should know better."
"Wait… what?"
"And everyone is still waiting to find out if you've knocked up your sex slave from across the galaxy. Mumphrey particularly harrumphs about you having a hard time doing right by poor Miiri…"
"He… wait… what?"
"But you don't let any of the disapproval or the eroding of your teammate's regard for you bring you down, do you? Maybe that's how Josh and I should handle things… Maybe we don't need the blessing or approval of others to be happy. We could just learn to ignore our guilt and remorse, and bury ourselves further in hedonistic pleasure like you do."
"I… you… but…"
Uhuna let out a deep, cleansing breath. "Hallie was right… You do have a comforting way about you. Our problems don't seem nearly so insurmountable now… I'm so glad I came to see you." She gave him a peck on the cheek and went to the kitchen door. "I should get back to the others before someone gets the wrong idea about us, what with your reputation."
Visionary stood there blinking as she slipped out.
* * * "How'd it go?" Lisa asked from the couch.
"Well enough that I feel a little guilty" Uhuna admitted. "Are you sure this is how I form new bonds with the team now that I'm no longer considered to be 'Nat's Girlfriend'? It seems a little cruel…"
The first lady of the Lair Legion grinned. "Teasing Visionary is a rite of passage to the team, believe me."
"It just didn't seem very sporting…"
"Did I mention that he's the one who coined the nickname 'Sex Princess'?"
"Yes" she admitted. "I only said I feel a little guilty…"
Manga Shoggoth
There were many approaches to Monitor Duty.
The traditional approach, of course, was to avoid doing it. Throughout the history of the Lair Legion, many excuses had been applied - I swapped with Visionary; I've been retconned by the Hooded Hood to be a villain; I've been replaced by an evil double; I'm Visionary.
Alas, there are times when the lucky candidate just has to bite the bullet (so to speak) and sit in front of the monitors, staring into nothing as their sanity slowly slips away.
The Manga Shoggoth was on Monitor Duty. At least on this occasion, sanity was not an option.
It had done a little rewiring on the equipment, and now the monitors were all white blurs. This was currently the cause of much bad language from Al. B. Harper as he tried to straighten out the system. ""Straighten out"" is, of course, a delicate term when applied to a system designed and built by NTU-150, and then further modified by a blasphemous elder creature who wanted to watch Anime at the same time as watching the various news feeds.
At length, the various monitors flickered and displayed clear pictures.
Hey, I was watching them! burbled the Shoggoth, who had indeed been watching its entire Anime collection at the time.
""Sorry,"" replied Alric. ""But Sir Mumphery has explicitly requested that the feeds be visible to normal humans as well. I've left you the top right monitor if you really have to watch cartoons.""
The Shoggoth made a sort of Humph, and started transferring all the tapes and DVDs to the player feeding that monitor. Alric decided that he just did not want to know. There was weird science, and weird science.
""What are you doing on Monitor Duty?"" he asked. This was a fair question, as the general feeling amongst the team was that the Shoggoth's viewpoint was, well, too alien to discern the genuine emergencies from the general dross.
Nothing else to do... replied the Shoggoth, slightly mournfully.
The top right monitor flickered and died - presumably due to overload, but since nearly all the anime in existence had just been channelled through it by an elder creature, nervous breakdown was a possible option.
The Shoggoth stared at it. It started up again, very quickly.
""There's a poker game in the games room...""
Disqualified.
""...?""
I was told the Joker was a wild card, so I dealt everyone Jokers. They said it was cheating and besides they couldn't tell who had one if the cards were all wild. Primates. It's not as if it is difficult, even for dimensionally limited creatures as yourselves.
""So, who would have won?""
The one with the highest score, of course. I couldn't tell - all the cards look alike to me.
Alric decided to try a new tack. ""There's a sudoku puzzle in the paper.""
No thanks. Thinking down to that level gives me a headache.
""But you don't...""
Exactly.
What, he thought, are you supposed to do with a clinically bored Shoggoth.
You think you have problems. What are you supposed to do if you are a clinically bored Shoggoth.
""Look,"" he said. ""I really need to finish tidying the lab after the last attempt at purifying you. I'll catch you later.""
The Shoggoth returned to its task. Hmmmm. Supervillain attack on the Safe? Seems normal. Massive earthquake? No. That's quite a small one. Giant Asteroid impact? Haven't had one of them for years. Last one was quite boring, though.
It was a slow night in the Lair Legion. Nobody questioned why it was a slow night.
Trickshot
""Alright, now that Slime-Boy is gone lets try this again.""
Trickshot shuffled the deck and then handed it to Visionary to cut. ""Cut the cards Romeo.""
""What? Oh! Ok. Here.""
All the players then took thier cards. With some players, like Mr. Epitome, no one could tell what he had. Other's, Like CrazySugarFreakBoy, (mainly becuase he jumped up and down and grinned at his hand) everyone knew something was up.
While Hatman looked at his cards he asked Visionary, ""So why so distracted Vish?""
Visionary
""Vizh? Yohoo..."" Hatman prodded.
""Huh?"" the Regular answered, looking back to the capped crusader. ""What?""
Hatty chuckled and adjusted his poker visor. ""Nevermind. I could use your money... Or at least, Mac Fleetwood's collection plate could.""
""Wait... we aren't just playing for chips?"" He did a quick mental calculation. ""How much are the blue ones worth?""
""Five dollars.""
Visionary's eyes grew wide as he took in the stakes. ""Please tell me that's in play currency, like monopoly money or Canadian dollars.""
""Just keep your mind on the game, high roller"" Yuki advised him.
""Yes... right... okay..."" he replied. ""I could still help send Kerry to college...""
""Yeah, right... She's headed for the Ivy Leagues, no doubt"" Trickshot snorted. ""On the plus side, I don't think reform schools charge admission.""
Visionary scowled and went back to studying his hand. A laugh easily cut through his intense concentration, however, and he found himself staring across the table where a slight green hand rested familiarly on a heavily muscled forearm. Hallie leaned across Mr. Epitome to reply to something Dancer had said on the other side of him with comfortable ease.
""Vizh? Vizh? Hey, Fake man!"" Trickshot prodded.
""What?!"" Visionary growled.
""Fish or cut bait, man"" the archer replied. ""Are you in on this game or not?""
The Regular considered the question.
Visionary (again)
"My deal" Hallie said, accepting the deck from Epitome. She accessed digital recordings of Vegas security footage, analyzed the moves of the dealers with a special motion capture subroutine she had written that morning, and easily sent the cards shooting through the air from her left hand to her right. "Ante up, folks."
"I still say you're counting cards…" Trickshot grumbled into his can of beer.
"For the last time Bastion, we're playing poker, not Blackjack." Epitome replied. "There's only one deck, and it's reshuffled each hand. If you're not counting which cards are out there, then you're an idiot."
"An' another thing…" the archer continued, ignoring the interruption completely. "How is it I had four jacks last hand and still lost?"
"I'm going to go with 'you're drunk enough to be seeing double', since you only had a pair. And actually, it was one Jack and one Queen." Hatman noted.
"I still maintain that was a really pretty man."
"You'd think he'd have learned the difference after all that time patrolling the Millar district" Yuki suggested.
Hatman shrugged. "Yes, well… If anybody attacks the mansion tonight Tricky, try to aim for the one in the center."
"Enough with the gabbing, people… let's see your money" Hallie drawled. "Art supplies don't come cheap."
"How about we make this hand a bit more… interesting?" Flapjack leered.
"Interesting, or skin crawlingly repulsive?" Hallie asked casually.
"You say potato…"
"What could you possibly have that I would want?" the AI inquired mildly.
The disgusting hunchback reached under the table and produced a plain manila envelope which he slid across the table with a wide grin. Hallie eyed him warily, then reached out to open the package. With one look, her eyes went wide and a gasp escaped her lips.
"Nice lighting, don't you think?" the butler prodded evilly.
"How… where… You little sleaze! All of these photos were supposed to be destroyed!"
Before the twisted man could respond, Epitome was around the table and ripping the small man out of his chair to pin him to the wall. "Wrong move, dirtbag…" he growled.
"Dominic…" Hallie called to him.
"Did you think you could extort the lady just because the Legion has turned a blind eye to your perversions in the past?" He slammed him against the wall again.
"Dominic!"
"A-heh… Finally" the butler grinned. "Someone who knows how to reward the help."
"We'll see how much you're grinning when you're being booked for extortion, sexual molestation, criminal invasion of…"
"Dominic! It's a picture of me… in my bridesmaid's dress."
The paragon of power's face froze, then contorted in confusion. "It's a what?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.
"It's a picture of me… in my static-ridden, poofy, clashing bridesmaid dress…" she answered through clenched teeth. "Taken in public. In broad daylight."
Mr. Epitome blinked. "Wait… What?"
"And they call me slow…" Visionary grumbled.
"Er…" Epitome put the butler back down to foot level… at least as level as the lopsided man could be. "Yes, well… you just watch yourself…" he managed ominously. "If you'll excuse me… I need to go… Away" he nodded to the rest of the table as he made his retreat.
"We're going to run out of heavy things to break" Hatman noted mildly.
"What do you want?" Hallie demanded as Flapjack retrieved his chair from the floor. "For all copies of this, and the negatives."
He grinned.
"Forget it" she snorted.
"Did I mention I have pictures of the pie eating episode when you were human?" he asked mildly.
"You! Why… I should… Dammit, I'm in" she agreed darkly. "All those negatives too. And you stop calling me "pixelbottom"."
"Are you willing to dress up like Miiri?"
"Not a chance"
"Then pixelbottom stays off the table. At least until we get extra frisky."
"Whatever" she rolled her eyes and dealt the cards. Nobody else dared ante into the hand, though quite a crowd gathered to watch. "How many?" she asked after they each checked their hands.
"Just one" he answered, grinning wickedly.
"You know, now that I'm back to being a hologram, I don't have the nerve endings to really get into things. It would all be just an act…"
He stared at her blankly, waiting for her point.
Hallie rolled her eyes, flicked the top card off the deck in response to his discard, and took three for herself. "Well now" she said suggestively, leaning over to lay her cards on the table. "Three twos…" she noted. "Not spectacular, but not too bad. If you can beat it, I'm all yours until morning."
His poker face left something to be desired. "Full house!" he noted gleefully. "Kings over eights!" He laid his cards out with a flourish, revealing an embarrassingly random sampling of ten-high nothing.
Hallie raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Looks like you need your eyes checked more than Tricky. I'll expect the negatives in the computer lab by morning…"
"But… but…" he looked at his cards in disbelief and tilted them this way and that in the light. His eyes narrowed as he peered across at the holographic woman. "Hey Harper… where's the nearest holographic dead-zone where little miss-vitual-pants can't conjure up whatever image she wants?"
Al B. blinked from his spot over by the pool table. "Um… nowhere on the island…" he noted, giving it some thought. "I think you'd have to go most of the way across the bridge to the mainland before you were completely out of range."
"Excuse me…" the deformed butler said politely as he scooped up his cards and hightailed it to the front door in a loping, rolling gate. The sounds of his mismatched footfalls could be heard echoing down the front walk as he took off into the night.
"Um… how far is that?" Visionary asked curiously.
Al scratched his chin. "About a mile and a quarter, there and back"
The Regular shot Hallie a concerned look. "What happens when he gets out there?" he asked.
The mansion's AI system shrugged. "Not much. His kings and eights were the holograms." She stretched and got up from the table. "What a lovely night to watch someone stroll… Care to join me?"
Visionary
"I'm telling you, Arrested Development was robbed" Fleabot argued. "It's the best written comedy on the air today. I don't even know how Desperate Housewives got in the category."
"Because it's funny!" Amber declared. "Things don't have to conform to the standard half-hour format to be comedies… It's a show with all lead women that's not afraid to deviate from societies attempts to pigeonhole it into a label they can find more comfortable."
"Whatever" Fleabot said, rolling his eyes. "Just explain to me how a woman can go mow a yard at night in formal dress and get back to a party, and nobody even notices? I'm a city flea, and even I found it far fetched. At the very least, she'd reek of more cheap gasoline and grass stains than Vizh does after he gets back from slapping on his cologne and visiting the park with Pricilla."
"Hey!" the Regular objected, reentering the room. "Leave me out of this… Besides, I actually like the show that won."
"You would" Lisa noted, stretching.
"What's wrong with Everybody Loves Raymond?" Visionary asked. "I like Peter Boyle."
"Oh please… Peter Boyle aside, those kinds of shows are all the same… A clueless schlub doing the same schtick week after week, all while paired with a female lead who is way out of his league. It's an insult to our intelligence."
The Regular sniffed. "It doesn't seem so far fetched to me" Visionary noted grumpily.
Trickshot
Trickshot walked into the room with a can of beer in his hand
""What the h&^%? You guys were watchin' the Emmys? What a waste of time! No real shows like Choppers USA or American Archers were nominated so it's a waste of time! Besides, it's all rigged anyhow.""
He jumped on the couch, pushed off his boots with his feet and put his bare, stinky feet up on the coffie table.
SLUUUURRRP!
BUURRRP!
L!
""What's an Emmy?"" Lee asks, totally oblivious to popular culture.
Nats
Meanwhile, in hell...
""Does it feel chilly to you?"" asked Nats.
""Shatner just won his second Emmy,"" Regret replied. ""I'll get the toboggan ready...""
""Hey, I like Boston Legal, dammit!""
""Yeah, you and the snowball.""
Mr Epitomie
""I'll tell you who was robbed of an Emmy."" Mr Epitomie interjected.
""Lauren Graham. The woman is brilliant, able to convincingly portray a character that is both endearing and insufferable, in situations both comedic and dramatic, and does all this despite being weighed down by working primarily with an actress with the charisma of a wet noodle. I know ""Gilmore Girls"" is on the WB, a network that gets as much respect as the Democratic Party these days, but it is an injustice that Miss Graham was not even nominated! Why don't these judges see her obvious talent, her wit, her quirky style, her cute little pug nose, that slight yet sensual overbite, her pale, freckled..."" the Paragon of Power's diatribe trailed off as he became aware of the multitude of nonplussed stares judging him.
""If anyone needs me, I'll be destroying something heavy,"" he announced sheepishly before stalking off.
""Boy,"" Fleabot observed after he left, ""He really has changed.""
Killer Shrike
Trickshot made a mad dash from the archery range. Not bothering to wait for the elevator, he took the emergency stairwell, taking stairs three at a time. He skidded down the Lair Mansion hallway, stopping only briefly at a mirror to adjust his cowlick and groom the crumbs of an English muffin from his goatee. Then he continued his trek to the Living Room itself, where, if rumors could be believed, a pulchritudinous bounty awaited him.
Instead, he got Mr. Epitome reading a newspaper.
"Aw, crud," the brash bowman exhorted before collapsing on one of the room's recliners, "They're gone."
"Looking for the pornographers?" Epitome inquired.
"Yeah," Trickshot kicked the seat back into a more prone position and sighed, "What happened to 'em? You sic the Vice Squad on them or sumpthin'?"
The Paragon of Power looked up and frowned, "If only. No, they're still here. Yo and Amazing Guy are talking with the women now, in an attempt to dissuade them from their chosen career path."
"That sounds about right," Carl Bastion muttered unhappily, "What about the dude?"
"I believe Mr. ah, Ramrod has been deemed incorrigible and beyond rehabilitation. Miss Waltz is running interference with him while Yo meets with the others in the study."
"Oh, really?" Trickshot cast a sidelong glance towards the door where opportunity awaited.
Mr. Epitome took notice, "I am here to run interference on you, Flapjack, or any of the other over-sexed deviants who make up this team."
"That sounds about right, too," Trickshot groused. Epitome smirked and went back to his paper.
The annoying archer stared at Epitome awhile before speaking, "What's the matter with you, anyway, Clancy? Don't like girls?"
"I prefer women, actually."
"Yeah, whatever. I'm just sayin', if a guy wants to make, uh, introductions with a young lady, or ladies, and grant them the pleasure of his company for say, the Lair Legion Picnic, you should be a sport and stand aside, and let said guy work his magic."
"Lair Legion Picnic," Dominic snorted, putting down his paper, "We're supposed to be an elite meta-crisis response team, not the Kiwanis Club. It's ridiculous. What's next, the Lair Legion Donkey Basketball Tournament?"
Trickshot made a face, "Donkey… how does that work?"
"That's not the-"
"I mean, do ya ride the donkeys, or play against the donkeys, or do the donkeys play each other, or-?"
"Forget the donkeys!" Epitome raised his voice, "I'm just pointing out that there is a lack of professionalism on this team, and events like this just exacerbate the situation."
"Yeah, throwing bowling balls at scrawny teenage geeks is real professional," Trickshot noted sarcastically, "Unclench, will ya, Clancy? These ta-dos are a lot of fun. Lots of chicks, open bar, great grub… man, when Jay wears that chef's hat he can put together quite a spread!"
Dominic scowled, "What, donuts and back bacon? No thanks."
"Aw, man, don't hold a grudge. Just 'cuz Hatty slapped you around like a red-haired step-child fer what ya did to Hacker 9..."
"He did not slap me around," the Exemplary Man corrected with some authority, "He jumped me and then backed down when I was ready to retaliate."
"Yeah, well, Jay probably didn't want ta make things worse than they already wuz, on account of him being a goody-goody an' all," Trickshot reasoned.
"Well, he failed miserably," Epitome adjudged, "A man doesn't start something he isn't willing to finish. If Boaz wanted to teach me a lesson by trying to put the beat down on me he should of, not wuss out like he did."
Trickshot nodded, "Fer once we're in agreement, Stripsey: I think Jay shoulda put the beat down on ya too," the wiry bowman stood and adjusted himself, "Well, I'm out. I've still got 90 minutes of target practice ta do."
Dominic nodded with some admiration, "It's impressive the amount of time you spend honing your marksmanship."
Bastion blinked, then grinned, "You comin' on ta me, Clancy? Just 'cuz I had no shot with the porn stars don't mean Ol' Tricky's outta chances, ya know. Maybe I can convince the Shoggoth to give those Caphans a weekend pass from Lemuria. Show 'em what 'paradise' is really like."
Mr. Epitome smirked, "Paradise doesn't usually involve vomit on one's shoes, tears of recrimination, and a penicillin shot."
"Ha. Yeah, yer alright, Clancy. You may still be an uptight, muscleheaded bully, but at least yer good for a few laughs," the annoying archer left with a one-fingered salute for the American Archetype, who shook his head and went back to his paper.
