Fic: Never Fear, The Fellowship Is Here!
May. 21st, 2009 09:05 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
dizzydame.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
monaboyd_monthTitle: Never Fear, The Fellowship Is Here!
By:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
glass_moment and dizzydame
Rated: R
Notes: Yes, it is just as cracky as you think it's gonna be.
Elijah
When you think of super heroes, you probably think of adventure and intrigue and glamorous lives, right?
Yeah. Wrong.
When I think of superheroes, I think of Billy using his powers to get the last chocolate chip cookie or Orlando forgetting to leave the toilet seat up because he knows it bugs me or never being able get away with fucking anything - I mean, with anything, not with fucking... oh, geez, you know what I meant - because Viggo knows every fucking thing that anyone does.
I mean, when you get right down to it, actual super hero stuff takes up like. .05% of our time. We've all got day jobs, even though they're kind of shitty since we have to work at places with really flexible hours and we keep getting fired because even bosses that give us flexible hours get royally pissed when we don't show up for the tenth time in a row because some evil bad guy is holding us hostage.
I get that a lot, too. Evil bad guys coming after me. I don't know what it is about me. No one comes after Vig or, or Astin, or anything. It's always me. I know I'm short but do I look that easy to pick on? That Christopher Lee dude, he's the worse - and his outfit, oh my fucking Christ, man, you gotta see it to believe it. He's got a freaking EYE on his chest, one big red glowy eye. It's insane, it's like - how is anyone supposed to take him seriously? Doesn't he have anything better to do with his time? Evil bad guys are supposed to be evil and bad, not just pick on little dudes. I bruise easily, okay! It's not fun! At all!
Anyway. Whatever. So what was I saying? Oh, yeah. Okay. Superhero life - not that awesome. No one wants to do the dishes, we fight over who is gonna go grocery shopping, Billy's always leaving his socks on the floor. His SMELLY socks. It's just like living in a house full of normal guys.
Only... normal guys who can do slightly not normal shit with their minds.
Most of us don't have awesome origin stories involving radioactive insects or meteors or anything, we were just born with an extra ability or two. I've been able to see through things however much I want for as long as I can remember. For example, when I'm looking at you I can sort of...adjust my eyes, the way you might focus on something close up or far away, only I could see you or you naked or your internal organs or the wall behind you. Or miles behind you, if I wanted. When I was a kid I figured it was normal. It actually took until I was about five or six years old to realize that not everybody has X-ray vision.
My family took it in stride, pretty much- I guess it explained a lot of the weird shit I did as a kid. It didn't really affect my life too much until one day when I was fifteen and my mom figured out that all those hours I said I was reading in my room I was really spending spying on whoever was having sex in town and jerking off.
Really, can you blame me? I bet you couldn't live your life with X-ray vision and never look at somebody naked. It's a natural urge. And plus, I was a pretty dorky fifteen-year-old, so that was all the action I was getting.
Anyway, my mom decided that enough was enough and packed me off to live here with Viggo. To this day I don't know how she found out about him and his little superhero band, but she said that if I had special abilities I might as well learn to use them for something helpful instead of sleazy. They told everyone I was going to boarding school and sort of apprenticed me to Viggo, if you can call being dragged along to save the world an apprenticeship. I've lived here ever since. Except for Saturdays, when I go home for a day to hang out with Hannah and eat.
My mom's pretty awesome.
"Oi! Doodle!" Orlando shouts at me. I shut my laptop quickly, because I remember how bad he ragged on me last time he caught me downloading porn. Any you probably thought getting caught by your mom was embarrassing. At least your mom isn't gonna run around the house yelling it at the top of her lungs.
"What?" I shout back.
"Move your arse, we've got a situation in progress."
Remind me to delete all of the episodes of Cops Orli has saved on the tivo, okay?
It takes me all of two minutes to throw on some pants and find my shoes. I'm the last one in the car, but that's usually the case. "Where's Sean?"
"Alexandra's baseball game," Viggo reminds me. "He's meeting us there."
Of course he is. It takes him all of two seconds to teleport. But since he isn't around, we're stuck taking Viggo's hippie-reject van.
They fill me in on what's going down while we drive. Wormtongue (not his real name, by the way. I found him on myspace last month. His actual name is Brad. What a lame-o bad guy name... if I were trying to be an evil mastermind, I'd probably have dropped the preppy white boy name, too) is not the most creative guy in the world. He's kind of dumb, actually. All he's doing is setting a few bugs loose. I'm sure there's mass hysteria among teenage girls shrieking and jumping on park benches. I don't really know why all of us even had to come. My busty-redheads torrent was only 2% away from being done.
At least, that's what I think until we actually get there, because it turns out 'a few bugs' is a little bit of an understatement.
By a little bit, I mean a lot. A whole lot.
There have to be thousands of bugs, squishing and crunching and skittering everywhere beneath people's feet. And the bugs are only the opening act. After the bugs come the snakes. Billy handles crowd control, calming people down so we don't have to worry about any little old ladies having a creepy-crawly induced heart attack while me and Vig and Astin head after Wormtongue. That leaves Orli to try and deal with the bugs and the snakes and did I mention the big huge eye-pecking birds? There's actual bloodshed and this turning into kind of a red alert kind of moment when all of a sudden all of the animals just. fucking. stop.
It's insane! We're all just standing there like, what the fuck! What the shit! How did that happen! It's like one of those scenes out of a movie where the hero is about to be toast and then at the last minute they get rescued by someone you thought was dead an hour ago. Only, except for the someone we thought was dead part, because this guy was a total stranger. And that would never happen in a movie, new characters are never introduced in the final scene, so whatever, maybe that doesn't work.
Anyway. This guy shows up and does this whole Moses Parting the Water thing with his hands and all the animals just chill all of a sudden. The birds are landing on all the fences and it's some fucking creepy stuff, let me tell you about it, man. Vig and Orli get Wormtongue down and Astin takes him off to the middle of some desert or iceberg or mountain in the middle of fucking New Zealand or something to rot. I mean, he'll find his way back, they always do but it'll be a month or two before we hear from him again. And by the time we figure out what's what, dude has pulled a Houdini on us.
At least, that's what I think. But it turns out Billy talked to him before he left. Said his name was Dominic and he looked like he was about to pass out when Billy told him that he'd just helped a whole bunch of superheroes. Of course Viggo got this Look on his face. The same kind of Look he had just before he brought Orlando home, Orli trailing behind him like an excited puppy.
Orlando
After everything was over we went home and had dinner, which is pretty much what we usually do, except sometimes it's breakfast or lunch or whatever it's called when you eat a meal at three in the morning because you've spent the day thwarting bad guys and now you're exhausted and hungry. Have I mentioned that Viggo cooks constantly? He has some thing about it, I don't know. I guess it's because a lot of the time he doesn't actually go out with us on our awesome saving-the-world missions, just tells us where to be and when and then waits around in the house for us to come back. And cooks.
That night it was some weird sweet salmon thing with nuts, or in my case sweet tofu thing with nuts because Viggo's the only one who never teases me about being vegetarian. I held out for as long as I could, but about a year after I joined Viggo's little gang we had that mission with the guy we've all taken to calling Doctor Frankenstein of the Cheese and, well, the less said about that the better, but after spending a week as a cow I just gave up. I'd like to see you try to eat a burger after that.
Anyway, we were all sitting around the table- Viggo, me, Elijah, Billy, and Sean, who always eats with us before he goes home after a mission. He says it's important to the psychological process of decompression that we all share time together in the aftermath, which is kind of sweet but can also be kind of annoying. No one was feeling particularly traumatized that night, though, so we got friendly Sean instead of psychoanalyst Sean and all was well. We were having the spying morality debate again- Elijah was head over heals in teenage lust with the neighbor's daughter and kept going back and forth about whether it was ethical to watch her in the shower- when Viggo said,
"I'm thinking of asking Dominic if he wants to move in."
"Dom? You mean bug boy from the zoo today?" I asked. He nodded.
"Seriously?" said Elijah. "You do realize that he talks to animals. I mean, no offense, but that's, like, the lamest power ever."
"It does sound a little like a preteen girl fantasy novel," added Billy around a mouthful of salmon.
"Like you're one to talk, Bill. By all rights you should be wearing gypsy skirts and waving a pocket watch back and forth," I said.
Billy focused.
"Take it back."
"I take it back. Hey, wait! That's not fair!"
Billy just smirked down at his plate.
"It's not my fault it's impossible to win an argument with me."
"Guys-" that was Sean. I ignored him.
"You shouldn't be allowed to use your powers at the table if I can't use mine! I could just change into a bear and eat you, you know, you can't talk an animal out of anything."
Sean smacked me in the back of the head.
"Guys, stop it. The topic at hand is Dominic."
"I just have a feeling about him," said Viggo, which quieted everything down much faster than Sean's attempts at refereeing. Viggo having a feeling is a lot different from most people having a feeling.
"We've barely met the guy," I said, cautiously.
"Billy can do his inquisition thing to make sure he's not going to kill us all in our sleep," said Elijah.
"Yeah, but what if we don't like him? Maybe he'll smell bad or refuse to clean up or something, I don't know."
Elijah coughed something that sounded suspiciously like hypocrite into his fist and I elbowed him before getting another smack from Sean. I wonder if he chooses his seat at dinner specifically so he can pick on me. I'll have to test that theory sometime.
"Let's put it to a vote," said Sean, ever the responsible adult. "All in favor, raise your hand."
I only hesitated for a moment. There were people in and out of the house all the time, after all, members of some weird superhero network or something. Viggo knew them all from somewhere and after a while we got to know the regulars, people like Andy and Cate and Sean Bean who would drop in for a few days or a few months--although I suspect Bean dropping in has less to do with his powers and more to do with the way Viggo only ever closes his door when Bean's around. Elijah's still too scared to spy on Viggo, so I guess we'll never know for sure. The point is, people were always staying over and it had never been a problem before.
Besides, Viggo had a feeling.
Billy
It would be a lie to say I don't mind working at the book bindery, but would probably also be a lie to say I hate it, which makes it better than about forty percent of the jobs I've held in the last five years. It's mind-numbingly boring, but at least they let me work afternoons. For some reason aspiring supervillains always try to take over the world at about two in the morning, don't ask me why, and it makes the morning shift a death sentence for all of us in the house. I don't understand what's wrong with world domination at noon, but then again that means I'll probably never be a supervillain, so I suppose it's alright.
The other perk of the bindery job is that I get Sundays completely free. The day Dom moved in was the first Sunday in a month that I not only had the day off but didn't have to spend it fighting crime, so you can understand why I was a little grumpy. Nothing against Dom. He seemed like a good bloke and we'd gotten along well enough when we'd met, although it's kind of hard to sort out the nuances of someone's personality while you're ordering around critters with your mind. It was just that he showed up the very next day with two suitcases and a lot of gratitude for Viggo. It turned out that he'd struck out on his own about a year beforehand, trying to prove to his parents that he could take care of himself, and was doing a pretty abysmal job of keeping a roof over his head with only the pay from a part-time job cleaning cages at the zoo.
So I was not in the best of moods when Sean stuck his head into my room on his combined tour of the house/assembly call.
"Billy's in here, you've met. Bill, come do your interview thing," he said. Dom gave me a little wave from the doorway before being tugged along. I felt a bit bad for him- Sean can be a little overwhelming at first- but not enough to make up for the irritation at being disturbed. I was reading the newspaper! The newspaper is a very important part of my life. Vital, you might even say. And now they wanted me to get out of bed.
"-and that's Viggo. He's psychic," Sean was saying as I wandered into the living room.
"No, I don't," said Viggo, out of the blue. Granted, that's pretty much the only way Viggo ever says anything.
"But- what-" Dom started, and didn't seem to be able to get any further. Elijah giggled into his hand.
"'Do you read minds?' is a pretty logical step from 'he's psychic,'" Viggo said. "It's most people's next thought. And no, I can't hear your thoughts. I just...know things."
Like that was any less creepy.
"Let's get started, shall we?" I said, sitting on the arm of the sofa and thinking longingly of my newspaper. "A couple questions for you, Dom, no offense intended but we figure better safe than sorry. Ready?"
He nodded.
"Tell the truth," I began, putting my power behind the words. "Do you have or have you ever had any desire to be a supervillain?"
Hey, Sean is the one who obsessively revises the list of questions. Don't blame me if they're ridiculous.
"No," said Dom, then frowned a little bit, probably at the experience of answering involuntarily. I've been told it's strange.
I focused again. "Tell the truth. Have you ever or would you ever use your powers to do anything the general public would perceive as evil?"
"No."
Focus. "Tell the truth. Do you have any motives for living in this house and/or associating with us that the general public would perceive as nefarious?"
"Yes."
Dom clamped his mouth shut. I glanced up at Viggo, who was leaning against the doorway to the kitchen with his usual expression of serene observation. Or possibly complete barminess, it's sort of hard to tell.
"Don't make me tell you what it is," Dom said suddenly. He was blushing beet red. "I promise I won't hurt anybody."
"Sorry, but we don't have a choice," said Sean, all tensed up and aggressive like he expected Dom to whip out a gun or something. "Go on, Bill."
I felt a little guilty about it, though it was hard to say why. It wasn't like I had any particular loyalty to Dom. I sighed, and focused.
"Tell the truth. What's the nefarious purpose, Dom?"
His head came up, glaring directly at me through the blush. The words were practically a growl, halfway between angry and embarrassed.
"I want into your pants."
In the ensuing silence Viggo, displaying an unusual amount of presence in the current moment, began to chuckle.
Okay, fair readers - now we have a mission for you. Submit your crises to Viggo's psychic brainwave... and then stay tuned next week to see what kind of mischief the boys get into. Same hobbit time, same hobbit channel!
No, really. We want prompts. SUPERHERO FELLOWSHIP PROMPTS! Gives them to us, precioussss...
By:
glass_moment and dizzydameRated: R
Notes: Yes, it is just as cracky as you think it's gonna be.
Elijah
When you think of super heroes, you probably think of adventure and intrigue and glamorous lives, right?
Yeah. Wrong.
When I think of superheroes, I think of Billy using his powers to get the last chocolate chip cookie or Orlando forgetting to leave the toilet seat up because he knows it bugs me or never being able get away with fucking anything - I mean, with anything, not with fucking... oh, geez, you know what I meant - because Viggo knows every fucking thing that anyone does.
I mean, when you get right down to it, actual super hero stuff takes up like. .05% of our time. We've all got day jobs, even though they're kind of shitty since we have to work at places with really flexible hours and we keep getting fired because even bosses that give us flexible hours get royally pissed when we don't show up for the tenth time in a row because some evil bad guy is holding us hostage.
I get that a lot, too. Evil bad guys coming after me. I don't know what it is about me. No one comes after Vig or, or Astin, or anything. It's always me. I know I'm short but do I look that easy to pick on? That Christopher Lee dude, he's the worse - and his outfit, oh my fucking Christ, man, you gotta see it to believe it. He's got a freaking EYE on his chest, one big red glowy eye. It's insane, it's like - how is anyone supposed to take him seriously? Doesn't he have anything better to do with his time? Evil bad guys are supposed to be evil and bad, not just pick on little dudes. I bruise easily, okay! It's not fun! At all!
Anyway. Whatever. So what was I saying? Oh, yeah. Okay. Superhero life - not that awesome. No one wants to do the dishes, we fight over who is gonna go grocery shopping, Billy's always leaving his socks on the floor. His SMELLY socks. It's just like living in a house full of normal guys.
Only... normal guys who can do slightly not normal shit with their minds.
Most of us don't have awesome origin stories involving radioactive insects or meteors or anything, we were just born with an extra ability or two. I've been able to see through things however much I want for as long as I can remember. For example, when I'm looking at you I can sort of...adjust my eyes, the way you might focus on something close up or far away, only I could see you or you naked or your internal organs or the wall behind you. Or miles behind you, if I wanted. When I was a kid I figured it was normal. It actually took until I was about five or six years old to realize that not everybody has X-ray vision.
My family took it in stride, pretty much- I guess it explained a lot of the weird shit I did as a kid. It didn't really affect my life too much until one day when I was fifteen and my mom figured out that all those hours I said I was reading in my room I was really spending spying on whoever was having sex in town and jerking off.
Really, can you blame me? I bet you couldn't live your life with X-ray vision and never look at somebody naked. It's a natural urge. And plus, I was a pretty dorky fifteen-year-old, so that was all the action I was getting.
Anyway, my mom decided that enough was enough and packed me off to live here with Viggo. To this day I don't know how she found out about him and his little superhero band, but she said that if I had special abilities I might as well learn to use them for something helpful instead of sleazy. They told everyone I was going to boarding school and sort of apprenticed me to Viggo, if you can call being dragged along to save the world an apprenticeship. I've lived here ever since. Except for Saturdays, when I go home for a day to hang out with Hannah and eat.
My mom's pretty awesome.
"Oi! Doodle!" Orlando shouts at me. I shut my laptop quickly, because I remember how bad he ragged on me last time he caught me downloading porn. Any you probably thought getting caught by your mom was embarrassing. At least your mom isn't gonna run around the house yelling it at the top of her lungs.
"What?" I shout back.
"Move your arse, we've got a situation in progress."
Remind me to delete all of the episodes of Cops Orli has saved on the tivo, okay?
It takes me all of two minutes to throw on some pants and find my shoes. I'm the last one in the car, but that's usually the case. "Where's Sean?"
"Alexandra's baseball game," Viggo reminds me. "He's meeting us there."
Of course he is. It takes him all of two seconds to teleport. But since he isn't around, we're stuck taking Viggo's hippie-reject van.
They fill me in on what's going down while we drive. Wormtongue (not his real name, by the way. I found him on myspace last month. His actual name is Brad. What a lame-o bad guy name... if I were trying to be an evil mastermind, I'd probably have dropped the preppy white boy name, too) is not the most creative guy in the world. He's kind of dumb, actually. All he's doing is setting a few bugs loose. I'm sure there's mass hysteria among teenage girls shrieking and jumping on park benches. I don't really know why all of us even had to come. My busty-redheads torrent was only 2% away from being done.
At least, that's what I think until we actually get there, because it turns out 'a few bugs' is a little bit of an understatement.
By a little bit, I mean a lot. A whole lot.
There have to be thousands of bugs, squishing and crunching and skittering everywhere beneath people's feet. And the bugs are only the opening act. After the bugs come the snakes. Billy handles crowd control, calming people down so we don't have to worry about any little old ladies having a creepy-crawly induced heart attack while me and Vig and Astin head after Wormtongue. That leaves Orli to try and deal with the bugs and the snakes and did I mention the big huge eye-pecking birds? There's actual bloodshed and this turning into kind of a red alert kind of moment when all of a sudden all of the animals just. fucking. stop.
It's insane! We're all just standing there like, what the fuck! What the shit! How did that happen! It's like one of those scenes out of a movie where the hero is about to be toast and then at the last minute they get rescued by someone you thought was dead an hour ago. Only, except for the someone we thought was dead part, because this guy was a total stranger. And that would never happen in a movie, new characters are never introduced in the final scene, so whatever, maybe that doesn't work.
Anyway. This guy shows up and does this whole Moses Parting the Water thing with his hands and all the animals just chill all of a sudden. The birds are landing on all the fences and it's some fucking creepy stuff, let me tell you about it, man. Vig and Orli get Wormtongue down and Astin takes him off to the middle of some desert or iceberg or mountain in the middle of fucking New Zealand or something to rot. I mean, he'll find his way back, they always do but it'll be a month or two before we hear from him again. And by the time we figure out what's what, dude has pulled a Houdini on us.
At least, that's what I think. But it turns out Billy talked to him before he left. Said his name was Dominic and he looked like he was about to pass out when Billy told him that he'd just helped a whole bunch of superheroes. Of course Viggo got this Look on his face. The same kind of Look he had just before he brought Orlando home, Orli trailing behind him like an excited puppy.
Orlando
After everything was over we went home and had dinner, which is pretty much what we usually do, except sometimes it's breakfast or lunch or whatever it's called when you eat a meal at three in the morning because you've spent the day thwarting bad guys and now you're exhausted and hungry. Have I mentioned that Viggo cooks constantly? He has some thing about it, I don't know. I guess it's because a lot of the time he doesn't actually go out with us on our awesome saving-the-world missions, just tells us where to be and when and then waits around in the house for us to come back. And cooks.
That night it was some weird sweet salmon thing with nuts, or in my case sweet tofu thing with nuts because Viggo's the only one who never teases me about being vegetarian. I held out for as long as I could, but about a year after I joined Viggo's little gang we had that mission with the guy we've all taken to calling Doctor Frankenstein of the Cheese and, well, the less said about that the better, but after spending a week as a cow I just gave up. I'd like to see you try to eat a burger after that.
Anyway, we were all sitting around the table- Viggo, me, Elijah, Billy, and Sean, who always eats with us before he goes home after a mission. He says it's important to the psychological process of decompression that we all share time together in the aftermath, which is kind of sweet but can also be kind of annoying. No one was feeling particularly traumatized that night, though, so we got friendly Sean instead of psychoanalyst Sean and all was well. We were having the spying morality debate again- Elijah was head over heals in teenage lust with the neighbor's daughter and kept going back and forth about whether it was ethical to watch her in the shower- when Viggo said,
"I'm thinking of asking Dominic if he wants to move in."
"Dom? You mean bug boy from the zoo today?" I asked. He nodded.
"Seriously?" said Elijah. "You do realize that he talks to animals. I mean, no offense, but that's, like, the lamest power ever."
"It does sound a little like a preteen girl fantasy novel," added Billy around a mouthful of salmon.
"Like you're one to talk, Bill. By all rights you should be wearing gypsy skirts and waving a pocket watch back and forth," I said.
Billy focused.
"Take it back."
"I take it back. Hey, wait! That's not fair!"
Billy just smirked down at his plate.
"It's not my fault it's impossible to win an argument with me."
"Guys-" that was Sean. I ignored him.
"You shouldn't be allowed to use your powers at the table if I can't use mine! I could just change into a bear and eat you, you know, you can't talk an animal out of anything."
Sean smacked me in the back of the head.
"Guys, stop it. The topic at hand is Dominic."
"I just have a feeling about him," said Viggo, which quieted everything down much faster than Sean's attempts at refereeing. Viggo having a feeling is a lot different from most people having a feeling.
"We've barely met the guy," I said, cautiously.
"Billy can do his inquisition thing to make sure he's not going to kill us all in our sleep," said Elijah.
"Yeah, but what if we don't like him? Maybe he'll smell bad or refuse to clean up or something, I don't know."
Elijah coughed something that sounded suspiciously like hypocrite into his fist and I elbowed him before getting another smack from Sean. I wonder if he chooses his seat at dinner specifically so he can pick on me. I'll have to test that theory sometime.
"Let's put it to a vote," said Sean, ever the responsible adult. "All in favor, raise your hand."
I only hesitated for a moment. There were people in and out of the house all the time, after all, members of some weird superhero network or something. Viggo knew them all from somewhere and after a while we got to know the regulars, people like Andy and Cate and Sean Bean who would drop in for a few days or a few months--although I suspect Bean dropping in has less to do with his powers and more to do with the way Viggo only ever closes his door when Bean's around. Elijah's still too scared to spy on Viggo, so I guess we'll never know for sure. The point is, people were always staying over and it had never been a problem before.
Besides, Viggo had a feeling.
Billy
It would be a lie to say I don't mind working at the book bindery, but would probably also be a lie to say I hate it, which makes it better than about forty percent of the jobs I've held in the last five years. It's mind-numbingly boring, but at least they let me work afternoons. For some reason aspiring supervillains always try to take over the world at about two in the morning, don't ask me why, and it makes the morning shift a death sentence for all of us in the house. I don't understand what's wrong with world domination at noon, but then again that means I'll probably never be a supervillain, so I suppose it's alright.
The other perk of the bindery job is that I get Sundays completely free. The day Dom moved in was the first Sunday in a month that I not only had the day off but didn't have to spend it fighting crime, so you can understand why I was a little grumpy. Nothing against Dom. He seemed like a good bloke and we'd gotten along well enough when we'd met, although it's kind of hard to sort out the nuances of someone's personality while you're ordering around critters with your mind. It was just that he showed up the very next day with two suitcases and a lot of gratitude for Viggo. It turned out that he'd struck out on his own about a year beforehand, trying to prove to his parents that he could take care of himself, and was doing a pretty abysmal job of keeping a roof over his head with only the pay from a part-time job cleaning cages at the zoo.
So I was not in the best of moods when Sean stuck his head into my room on his combined tour of the house/assembly call.
"Billy's in here, you've met. Bill, come do your interview thing," he said. Dom gave me a little wave from the doorway before being tugged along. I felt a bit bad for him- Sean can be a little overwhelming at first- but not enough to make up for the irritation at being disturbed. I was reading the newspaper! The newspaper is a very important part of my life. Vital, you might even say. And now they wanted me to get out of bed.
"-and that's Viggo. He's psychic," Sean was saying as I wandered into the living room.
"No, I don't," said Viggo, out of the blue. Granted, that's pretty much the only way Viggo ever says anything.
"But- what-" Dom started, and didn't seem to be able to get any further. Elijah giggled into his hand.
"'Do you read minds?' is a pretty logical step from 'he's psychic,'" Viggo said. "It's most people's next thought. And no, I can't hear your thoughts. I just...know things."
Like that was any less creepy.
"Let's get started, shall we?" I said, sitting on the arm of the sofa and thinking longingly of my newspaper. "A couple questions for you, Dom, no offense intended but we figure better safe than sorry. Ready?"
He nodded.
"Tell the truth," I began, putting my power behind the words. "Do you have or have you ever had any desire to be a supervillain?"
Hey, Sean is the one who obsessively revises the list of questions. Don't blame me if they're ridiculous.
"No," said Dom, then frowned a little bit, probably at the experience of answering involuntarily. I've been told it's strange.
I focused again. "Tell the truth. Have you ever or would you ever use your powers to do anything the general public would perceive as evil?"
"No."
Focus. "Tell the truth. Do you have any motives for living in this house and/or associating with us that the general public would perceive as nefarious?"
"Yes."
Dom clamped his mouth shut. I glanced up at Viggo, who was leaning against the doorway to the kitchen with his usual expression of serene observation. Or possibly complete barminess, it's sort of hard to tell.
"Don't make me tell you what it is," Dom said suddenly. He was blushing beet red. "I promise I won't hurt anybody."
"Sorry, but we don't have a choice," said Sean, all tensed up and aggressive like he expected Dom to whip out a gun or something. "Go on, Bill."
I felt a little guilty about it, though it was hard to say why. It wasn't like I had any particular loyalty to Dom. I sighed, and focused.
"Tell the truth. What's the nefarious purpose, Dom?"
His head came up, glaring directly at me through the blush. The words were practically a growl, halfway between angry and embarrassed.
"I want into your pants."
In the ensuing silence Viggo, displaying an unusual amount of presence in the current moment, began to chuckle.
Okay, fair readers - now we have a mission for you. Submit your crises to Viggo's psychic brainwave... and then stay tuned next week to see what kind of mischief the boys get into. Same hobbit time, same hobbit channel!
No, really. We want prompts. SUPERHERO FELLOWSHIP PROMPTS! Gives them to us, precioussss...
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Date: 2009-05-22 03:29 am (UTC)So much love. OMG.
*uses most appropriate icon I have*
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Date: 2009-05-26 04:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-26 08:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-22 04:44 am (UTC)BILLY AND DOM'S POWERS IN COMBINATION ARE THE ONLY THING THAT CAN DEFEAT AND REFORM BAD HORSE, EFFECTIVELY GUTTING THE EVIL LEAGUE OF EVIL'S CHAIN OF COMMAND. COME ON, YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO.
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Date: 2009-05-26 04:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-27 06:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-22 08:03 am (UTC)Elijah sounds very Elijah-ish, and the thought of Orli spending a week as a cow ... :D
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Date: 2009-05-26 04:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-22 11:42 am (UTC)He is so perfectly Elijah.
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Date: 2009-05-26 04:33 am (UTC)Do you have any prompt ideas for us? Doesn't have to be anything complicated.
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Date: 2009-05-26 04:49 am (UTC)How about a Super Villain has hijacked all broadcast TV & radio, cable, and satellite, AND the Web, and changed to All Commercials, All the Time. What a nightmare.
He could be named Murdoch Berlusconi, just saying.
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Date: 2009-06-03 05:54 am (UTC)Promptwise,
Metaphor Metastapholes. (did I totally misspell that?) The bane of librarians everywhere. He foils great literary works by rewriting metaphores in the works so that they're just wrong. For instance. "Behold the pale thighs of Tawney a two dollar whore. And the man who rode upon them was death, and gonorrhea followed with him."
And the like. :)
Or not... ;)