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Trudi and Jenni Wooster sidled up to Miiri on either side, effectively blocking escape.
The smaller twin smiled winningly and offered the bikini clad alien a flute of champagne, "So, you’re not from around here, are you?"
"No. I currently reside in Lemuria, with my fellow former slaves Deela, Sayanna, Philaana, Noona, Odoona, Losiira, Luuma, and Kaara. Originally, however, we were born on planet Caph, located-"
"Is Visionary real or not?" Jenni blurted.
"Uh, I am unclear as to the nature of your question," Miiri looked back and forth and the grinning blondes.
"The buzz is Visionary isn’t.... all natural, and since the two of you were intimate, my sister and I thought you might have some inside information as to whether that was true or not," Trudi explained.
Jenni giggled at the word ‘inside.’
"Buzz? Oh, you wish to know if Visionary’s anatomy has been enhanced," Miiri thought back, "Well, while we were performing quoz-lar, it did pinch my-"
Trudi interrupted, "You’ll have to fill us in on what quoz-lar is, dear. As a point of reference."
"Or better yet," Jenni handed Miiri her mascara wand and a cocktail napkin, "Draw us a diagram."
Trudi looked away and spotted someone walking to them, "We’ll have to wait on the particulars, sister. The ex is heading this way."
Indeed, the Sorceress was coming to join them, with an expression that could only be described as severe.
"Do you think if I dump my drink on her she’ll melt?" Jenni whispered cattily.
"I would not recommend testing that hypothesis," Miiri cautioned before wisely excusing herself.
The flaxen-haired Legionnaire in the vintage French lace gown walked up to the twins and offered her hand, "We haven’t been properly introduced. I am Whitney Darkness."
"Jenni Wooster."
"Trudi Wooster."
The Sorceress gave a slight smile, "I want to congratulate the two of you on finagling your way into this get together. Some of the most resourceful villains of the Parodyverse would have killed for the opportunity to get this close to us in a social setting, in hopes of catching us unawares."
The twins cast each other curious glances. So far the woman wasn’t talking like a jealous former girlfriend they had expected.
"Thanks," Trudi said cautiously.
"Now, from what I’ve heard both of you have your eyes on Jay."
"Sir Jay," Jenni clarified.
"Sir Jay. Right. Now, as you probably know, he and I share a history-"
"Oh, yes. The two of you were lovers, and nearly got engaged during the Technopolis Invasion, but then..." Jenni rattled off a long description of the couple’s relationship, mostly based on inaccurate tabloid gossip.
"The point is," Whitney said with considerable steel in her voice, "Even though Jay and I are no longer together, I still care for him. I know he’ll hate having to embarrass or hurt a person’s feelings over some unrequited crush, and I certainly don’t want him hurt or embarrassed himself. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"
"Not actually, no," Jenni said.
"She’s saying back off Sir Jay or she’ll turn us into toads or something," Trudi sulked, "Right?"
"That’s as good an interpretation as any," Whitney smiled now that her point had been made, "Enjoy the party."
Once the Sorceress was out of earshot Trudi downed the last of her champagne and muttered, "Women like that take all the fun out of being a gold digger."
"You’re offering me a rematch?" Mr. Epitome rephrased Shazana Pel’s proposal to him.
The woman in the black satin keyhole halter dress nodded, "Yes. It has bothered me that a warrior such as yourself has been denied an opportunity to reclaim your honor after such a humiliating defeat at my hands. Since this celebration is to end with the exchange of gifts, this would be my gift to you."
The Paragon of Power’s russet skullcap and cowl, worn with matching dinner jacket, did little to conceal his mirth, "Really. That seems rather unnecessary, though. Perhaps you could consider another gift. The Caphans knitted me a nice scarf, for example. Maybe something more along those lines."
The Thongarrian did not care for the suggestion, "You dare equate my proffer to something given by that slave race?" she spat, disgusted.
"It’s a nice scarf, done in checkerboard. And unlike what you’re suggesting, it is something that I can use," Epitome smiled, "I don’t fight to prove myself, or to maintain my honor. I fight for the only reason worth fighting for: to win."
Shazana sipped her drink, "To win what?"
"What I want. A safer, stronger world. You were a police officer on Thongarr, were you not? Isn’t that what you fought for?"
"Yes, but we did not sacrifice our moral code in doing so," the Pigeon Warrior objected.
"Neither do I. And I must point out; it was your culture’s code that unfairly made you an outcast for merely being practical when it came time to save lives. I don’t see a lot of merit in such a value system."
"I would not expect a Tool of the Man to have such a lack of regard for the laws a society is based on," Shazana noted.
"I respect the law."
"If it helps you ‘win,’" the winged warrior woman realized with some fascination.
Dominic Clancy just smiled and raised his glass to her.
As she approached the long table, laden with silver and candlesticks, Elizabeth Zemo suddenly recalled a Christmas back in New Hampshire, one of the last ones with her grandmother, Fanny Sweetpea Dewdrop . . . Zemo. Grandmother was in her late eighties, and had become an embittered reactionary. "Ought to send all of those kids with those smarmy tattoos into the service, that would teach ‘em how to behave!" was a typical remark. "What this country needs is another Great Depression. Then people would learn to take pride in sweeping the floors," was another.
At the dinner table, a nine-year-old cousin finally dared to challenge the aged crank. "Grandma, why do you talk so mean to everyone?"
"So they’ll listen to me," she snapped right back.
The old crone really was the bride for Otto, Elizabeth decided. She just married 40 years too soon. But Grandmother had the right idea for this Christmas party. Just brazen it out; showing any sign that she cared for the opinions of the other guests only invited them to exclude her.
The first opportunity arose as soon as the Baroness took her seat. Across from her was the Pigeon-Warrior who had insinuated herself between Elizabeth and DBS. "You are Shazana Pel," Elizabeth snapped, glaring at her rival.
"Yes," the pigeonwoman challenged back.
"I’m the Baroness Elizabeth Zemo."
"Okay."
With Shazana showing no visible reaction to Elizabeth’s fierce glare or to the revelation of her identify, the Baroness upped the stakes. "What is your relationship to De Brown Streak?"
Pel considered this. "I can defeat him in combat," she answered.
Not much of a romantic spark there, Elizabeth considered. Or maybe that’s how they do it on that bird-world of hers. Her thoughts were interrupted by CSFB!, two places away across the table, who leaned in front of Odoona the Caphan to wave his plastic spork at Elizabeth. "Hey! You zapped me with an anti-sugar ray!"
Fool. It was yeast. Better to leave him in the dark, though. "Yes," she agreed. "Pass the salt."
"I thought you were Visionary’s neighbor, made homeless by the Hellraisers?" Temporary Death puzzled.
"I’m Visionary’s ex-neighbor, made homeless by Kerry Shepherdson," the Baroness replied. "Read all about it in my forthcoming deposition."
Hacker9, sitting on Elizabeth’s right, interrupted. He had long ago slurped through the soup and had emptied the breadbasket. "Don’t spin your hard drive so much about Kerry, Elizabeth. She may not be the righteous hardware hack that you are, but she has her own cool ‘tude. She’s just as p.o.’d at the world as you are."
"Better work on that signal-to-noise ratio, Zach," replied Elizabeth. "And you’ve got it wrong. I’m not p.o.’d at the world – I just want to own it."
There was a silence that lasted until the footmen cleared the soup bowls and brought the fish course. It was broken by the gathering storm down the table, where the Caphans’ inquiries to Hallie about intimate play with Visionary began traveling up and down the table and brought Odoona into the fray.
"But Visionary was very happy when Miiri thanked him for his kindnesses," Odoona noted.
"He what?" yelped Kerry.
"They had sex, apparently," Elizabeth clarified helpfully, loudly, and distinctly. The general chatter at the far end of the table stopped dead.
"Remember that talk we had on appropriate confidentiality?" Miiri hissed to her sisters.
"But you said he was very happy with it," Noona reminded her. "You said it was quite refreshing to yekla-sto in the b’rah position with someone who was so balka-thriss. Twice."
"Is that good?" Vizh asked worriedly.
Odoona took the opportunity to obtain some advice from the Baroness. "Lady," she asked shyly, "it is true that you are a great mistress?"
"I’m nobody’s mistress," Elizabeth snapped hastily. She then reconsidered. "Oh, you mean, like master? A ruler?"
"Yes, yes. There seem to be so few of you in this world."
"There are not many who are brave enough and intelligent enough to try, I think."
"When we asked him about masters and mistresses for us, Master Visionary said that only twisted and evil people wanted to be masters over others. We are confused. What would you suggest?"
The Baroness pondered for a few moments and then replied in a low, purring voice. "Visionary is very subtle and clever, Odoona. He hides his ambitions and pretends to be concerned only with others. He is testing you to see if you and your sisters are worthy of him."
"Oh, I would never have thought of that! You are so helpful, please tell me more."
"A powerful master requires powerful love slaves. You must demonstrate to him that you are the most desirable, most sexual, most compelling women he could have. Go to his room tonight, and be sure to take rope, handcuffs and all the other instruments of pain and pleasure. Then,- - -" Elizabeth leaned over to whisper in Odoona’s ear.
"And don’t stop, even if he commands it?" Odoona questioned a few moments later.
"Definitely not. He is waiting for the women who can force him to become their master."
Odoona’s eyes went wide. "Ooooh," she sighed.
Elizabeth indulged in an evil smile. Well, that’s a start on my revenge. Even if he may enjoy some of it. Not to mention shaking up Hallie a little bit more.
After dinner, the Junior Lair Legion found themselves together near the library and compared notes.
"Sucky, just sucky," Kerry Shephardson complained. "Not a decent piece of fried food or pizza anywhere. I got stuck sitting next to Odoona, who spent half the time flirting and the other half whispering to that old bat Elizabeth Zemo. What’s she doing here anyway?"
"She did help rescue us, you know," replied Samantha Bonnington. "Not to mention all that stuff she did for the Civil Defense before she came over to see us."
"You’re just soft on her because she arranged that photo shoot for you," Kerry snapped back.
"That was just a nice gift, like all the other ones she was handing out," the Fashion Accessory pouted. "I mean, you’re wearing those rose pearls she gave you."
"Aaack!" Kerry exclaimed as her hands flew up to release the necklace’s catch. She stuffed the string of pearls into a jeans pocket and chattered, "I just forgot. They don’t look right on me anyway."
"The Swedish Temperpedic foam dog bed she gave me looks very nice," Glory said through her translator collar. "Blenkinsop took it up to my room."
"I don’t get it," whined Ham-Boy. "What’s an villainess who hates Kerry and blames us for blowing up her house doing giving us gifts? Does she think we’ll leave her alone the next time she tries something evil?"
"That’s right," Kerry exclaimed, "she’s trying to bribe us. Keep us from defeating her."
"You’re not thinking this through," Miiri told Visionary.
"You mean De Brown Streak could kick seven kinds of crap out of me before I’d finished waving my finger at him?"
"I mean that we Caphans have been closely regulated slaves all of our lives. We’ve been brought up to believe that our master will decide whom we sleep with, and what actions shall undertake with our partners."
"Well exactly," Vizh argued. "That’s why I’m determined you won’t still be victimised now you’re all..."
"Do you remember," Miiri said, pushing a finger onto his lips, "when you bought us bikinis?"
Visionary swallowed hard. "Yes," he agreed in a strangled voice.
"And you let us choose, for ourselves, what it was we wanted to wear."
"I remember being asked some... technical questions," the possibly-fake man swallowed.
"Then you’ll also remember how amazing it was for us to be allowed some choice over how we looked, over how we adorned ourselves?"
"I do recall a lot of excited jumping up and down. And jiggling," Vizh confessed in a choked whisper.
"It was important, that moment. It was when many of us first understood the concept of being free, masterless, as something that might not be absolutely horrific."
"What’s that got to do with Dr Brown Streak coming on to you all like you’re..."
"Nobody is telling any of us that we have to service Joshua Clement," Miiri pointed out. "So if Odoona elects to try him on... well, he is very pretty."
"You shouldn’t just be sex objects," Vizh worried.
"Unless we want to be," the green-skinned Caphan told him. "We’ve been bred to... well, be bred. We’re very very good at it. Sometimes we enjoy being very very good at it. But you know that, right?"
"Urk."
"So if it’s wonderful to be able to pick our own clothing, how much more wonderful to be able to pick a lover, to choose somebody we’d enjoy exchanging pleasure with?"
"Urk."
"Besides, Luuma gets very bad tempered if she hasn’t worked off her passions every so often. She can be a real grouch."
"Luuma? I thought you said Odoona was interested in DBS."
"Well, yes. Odoona crept out as well, obviously."
"Luuma and Odoona?"
"I think it’s a big step forward for them."
"So... the other Caphans are still in your dormitory?" A new thought occurred to him. "Wait, won’t the others have spotted that you crept out too?"
"Luuma and Odoona didn’t creep out. Who would have anointed them with oils and prepared them for the coupling? As for me, well the others just assumed I was coming to have sex with you."
"Urk."
"Whereas actually I just wanted to apologise for that embarrassing scene at dinner," Miiri continued. She glanced anxiously at Vizh. "You don’t mind that I’m not having sex with you again, do you? Only I didn’t want to define our relationship through physical intercourse, as you were saying earlier.
"Okay."
"And I am uncertain that you would desire to engage in sex without an additional element of ongoing commitment I would be unable to offer."
"Okay,"
"Also, it may be that you would prefer to be serviced by Hallie," Miiri suggested innocently.
"Oka... I mean, no, it’s not like that, I just..."
"Okay." Miiri smiled at the possibly fake man. "Well, I’d better be getting back," she told him, hopping out of bed. "Sleep well."
"Good night," Visionary told the zaftig Caphan love goddess as she slipped from his room.
Then he hammered his head against the bed-board until he went to sleep.
