The World of Pern(tm) is copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Time Passes.... From afar, Mehlani points. "There," she murmurs, as down the corridor can be seen... drums. Playing themselves! Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima blinks at the drums. "Whoa. I need a set that does that. Kinda wasteful to expend telekinetic energy so that you can play the drums and the lead guitar at the same time, not to mention tiring...." As she gets a lot of odd looks from various skeletons hanging about, she shrugs defensively. "Even a greenrider's got to have a hobby! But... the question is, who's using magic to manipulate the drumsticks?" Oddly reminded of the legs of a chicken by that statement, she swings her Proddytorch towards the drums, not really accomplishing anything except to give them an eerie green cast. "Mayhaps it's an ancient Aztec Swoonpriest Curse!" The music turns ever more sinister in the background. Mehlani pages: Well, they're just drums, what can they do?" says Indiana Holl, as he begins making his way along the drum-infested corridor, intent on getting past them on his continuing search for the Ring. Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima hrmphs. "How many really frightening scenes have been preluded by *that* statement, I wonder," she murmurs as she follows along. She might be worried about being beaten to death by strange sentient drumsticks or she might not, but the wish to get to and destroy/corrupt/lock away forever the Ring of F'lar takes heed over caution. Besides, Kassi's never been one for much caution anyway. To say nothing of common sense. Mehlani pages: Mehlani alone murmurs, "I don't LIKE this..." as her two companions venture along the hallway. Being a potential harper, the lass KNOWS drums aren't supposed to play themselves. And in her worried musing, she doesn't immediately notice that the two drums nearest Indy suddenly have gotten drummers. Ghostly drummers, but increasingly visible ones... and looking increasingly annoyed as they lunge at him! You paged Mehlani with 'As burning red eyes peer out from the depths as their owners materialize around the trio (well, quatro, if you count the Lysseth-parakeet), Kassi swings her fire-lizards-on-a-stick at them. "Back! Back! In the name of the Sacred Seventh Chant of the ProddyRiderGoddess, back!" This doesn't seem to accomplish much, except that the ghosts pause at sight of the priestly kilt and priestess costumes, muttering amongst themselves. At least, the ones in the back do. What the lunging ones are trying to do to Indy might well be a whole other matter.... "Say something swoonable!" Kassi shrieks at the whip-wielding ex-bronze.'. Mehlani pages: Mehlani lunges into the fray, grring in pure maidenly wrath at the ghosts, as Indiana Holl blinks. Something swoonable? He seems momentarily confused, till Mehlani senses his dilemma, and calls out, "So what kind of research would you do on me?" Indy suddenly grins and rallies with, "Noctural habits!" Their exchange continues with, "Oh, you mean, like what kind of cream I put on my face, and what position I sleep in?" "Mating rituals." "Mating rituals...?" "Primitive.... sexual... practices." "And you have a lot of experience in this area?" "_Years_ of field work...." Mehlani pages: Mehlani and Indy, however, as this little dialogue continues, suddenly get far more interested in looking at one another than they do at the ghosts. Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima can't help but raise an eyebrow at what an interesting discussion the pure and good-hearted Bronzerider's Daughter is having, and grins fiendishly--not long enough for anyone to notice, of course. Except a couple of ghosts, who wisely back a bit farther away. "And just how many hapless maidens have you corrupted in these deviant primitive practices which you so deviantly and primitively practice?" she inquires helpfully. "Four thousand? Six thousand? Forty-two?" Hey, that *might* be the Question, mightn't it? From afar, Mehlani dreamily entwines her arms around Indy Holl's neck just as her transmogrified fire lizard looks down at her, grins lopsidedly, and says, "Trust me." Kassima's words go right past her. Kassima? Who's Kassima? Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima just has to get a picture of this. She hauls a Poloroid out of the satchel and yells, "Smile!" Not that it's necessary, with those gooey-sweet expressions on their faces, but what the hey. Clicking a few quick snapshots, she starts to clear her throat, then pauses. See Mehlani swoon, something she's worked so long to accomplish, or fight off the ghost drummers who are intent upon ripping them all into many shreds? Hmmm. Tough question, indeed. Fortunately, there *is* an answer--Kassi pulls a glass of Water from her Satchel of Holding and starts flinging it at the ghosts. "Run! Flee!" she shouts at them as she splashes the stuff around, not really watching where she's tossing it either. Mehlani pages: Rather than run the risk of getting pregnant, the ghosts eek and panic and flee in multiple directions. Cheerfully oblivious, Indy Holl and 'Lani appear to be discovering that along with getting transformed into a full-grown archaeologist and a sweet curvaceous young thing, they've apparently picked up knowledge of and deep appreciation for the art of Serious Smooching, in which they are now engaged. Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima finishes flinging the Water about, and stoppers the empty vial to replace it in its sack. She takes a few more Poloroids, muttering something about how F'hlan's just not going to believe this, before cuing Sam to start playing the sappy love music again. While the Smoochfest takes place, no doubt causing the audience to turn to mush, Kassi takes a good look around and discovers most of the floor is covered with Water. Hmmm. This could be a problem. From afar, Mehlani can be seen to prettily blush at a playful murmur from Indy Holl -- something about asking her to *cough* 'oil his hide' -- before she waggles a dainty finger scoldingly at him and reminds him that they have a Quest to fulfill. "Oh, right," says Indy, "sorry, kid, forgot that the "smooch the heroine" scene is supposed to come _after_ I've been through trials and tribulations and in general gotten battered nigh unto collapse if not death -- wait." Mehlani pages: Mehlani goes pale. "This means you're going to get HURT!" she wails in horror to her fedora-bedecked fire lizard. Mehlani pages: Indy Holl heaves a plaintive sigh and replies, "I'm not too thrilled about it either, sweetheart, but it's not like I can get out of it, they do this to me in every movie!" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima nods and points to the script. "It's a rule, ayep. Having a hero battered through various acts of glory and self-sacrifice is ten times more swoonable. We took a poll. Don't worry, though, he'll live to get the Ring." She says nothing of *after* he gets the Ring, of course... but then, that idea to go get the Amulet of Yendor after this Quest *does* have merit.... From afar, Mehlani sniffles piteously, glares at Kassima for a moment, then hugs Indy Holl in desperation, perhaps trying to shield him from any immediate lurking danger. "Well, if you're sure you'll make it to the last act...." Mehlani pages: Indy nods firmly. "I'm sure, honey -- besides, they're only allowed to hurt me in Designated Hero Spots." At that, 'Lani brightens a little, and pipes, "Like Da! You know, you'd make a _great_ bronze rider..." Mehlani pages: At being compared to Mehlani's Sainted Father(TM), Indy Holl grins widely, loops an arm around 'Lani's shoulders, and cajoles, "C'mon, sweetheart, let's go. Besides, even if I DO get hurt you get to take care of me, see?" Before he goes, Indy glances around the corridor and blinks; weren't there ghosts here a minute ago? Coulda sworn.... ah well. Onward! Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima gets an image of an ex-bronze FL as a bronzerider, and shudders. Whatever happened to that distinct specification she made for Evil? Sheesh. You can't trust those Wands of Polymorph anymore; they just don't make them like they used to. "I think we may have a faint problem here," Kassi quips to the duo, pointing to the Water littering the floor. "Do you realize what this is?" Mehlani pages: Two pairs of blue eyes dip to the floor, then blink in shared bafflement. "Water," says Mehlani. "So what? The whole Temple is dank and damp...!" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima smacks her forehead and looks down to the ground in a plea to the PRG for patience. "Water, Water, yes, exactly--it's *the* Water! What do you think those ghosts went running from, anyway? Only *Water* is fearsome enough! Well, that, and maybe Flirk's klah, Barney the Dinosaur, and Richard Simmons... but I didn't have any of those." From afar, Mehlani stares at Kassima in horror. "You didn't," she breathes. Indy Holl blinks, taps 'Lani on the shoulder he used to perch on, and asks, "What's 'the Water'?" As 'Lani turns to relay this knowledge to him along their Impression bond, the ex-bronze uh ohs. "But, but, but this is no time for the Benden Flu!" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima shrugs and replies philosophically, "I figured even that risk might be marginally better than being torn into many small bleeding pieces, but hey. I can always try to call them back if you still want to die; don't imagine that'd get us anywhere, though. Now, how to get around this Water? I'd suggest using the torch to evaporate it, but who knows what breathing the steam might do?" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima meanwhile jots down a quick note in her portable notepad: Remind ghosts to come back and tear them into many small bleeding pieces, later. Or at the *very* least inflict a little damage. Movies get higher ratings with more bloodshed, after all. Mehlani pages: Indy looks awkwardly between the two young women, and actually appears to be blushing; interesting how a fellow he was just talking about primitive sexual practices appears to be discomfited by pregnancy. "Um, can't we, ah, just walk through it?" From afar, Mehlani lifts a foot and peers worriedly at the bottom of her shoe, which now appears to be glowing faintly. That same kind of glow pregnant women tend to get, too. "Oh dear. Um, Holl, we need to get out of here, and fast. The Water might even work on YOU." Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima shakes her head, obviously frustrated by the fact that she's managed to work herself into a trap along with everyone else. She's really got to quit doing that. "I don't know what would happen; maybe nothing. Maybe our shoes would just have lots of little baby shoes. But it'd be best to get out of here before too much of this stuff evaporates in the air, do you ken?" The green fire- lizards tied to her ProddyTorch are definitely dimming, and appear to be putting on a little weight, too; Kassi stares at them in utter, genuine horror. "Shard it, I *knew* I should've brought Richard Simmons along instead of that Water! Maybe if we could build some sort of bridge, though...." Mehlani pages: At the womens' dire words, Indy utters a strangled little croak, and looks upward. Anything up there to wrap a bullwhip around, like handy ceiling beams? Spying one, he flicks the whip upwards and lets it coil around the beam a few times, then orders 'Lani, "Grab on and swing down past the water, through that door! Hurry!" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima yells, "And watch out for that door, too! That symbol etched on it is some sacred god's head or other, and they probably trapped it with weapons of unimaginable cruelty, just in case someone managed to escape!" Just what 'Lani needed to hear, she's so sure, but even minor acts of Evil are better than none. Mehlani pages: 'Lani pinches her eyes shut, grabs hold of Indy Holl's whip, and lets him give her a swift push to go swinging, AOAAIAIAIAAAAAAAGH, right through the dloor. *CRASH!* That sound is immediately followed by Mehlani shrieking in what sounds like mortal terror, and Indy Holl yells, "'LANI?!" But there is no answer! Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima looks like she'd like to applaud the Tarzan yell if she weren't busy trying to think of a way out of this mess, but when Mehlani disappears, she drats. That was such a neat trick, she'd really have liked to have seen it again! "Must be something horrendously, terrifyingly evil in there," she exclaims, sounding... excited? After all, destroying rivals for the Supreme Power of Darkness can be fun, too. "Let's get after it!" Mehlani pages: I'll rip it in half if it hurt 'Lani!" swears Indy Holl, who grabs onto his bullwhip and goes swinging in Mehlani's wake, to crash through the door after her... Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima eyes the bullwhip, then the door. Bullwhip, door. Bullwhip, door. Then the Water. That kind of resolves any indecision for her; she grabs the whip and swings after the others with a yell of, "Eskimo!" in tribute to Aph. She knows her sister-in- evil would probably find it strangely appropriate for reasons unknown. Mehlani pages: Who knows what Evil lurks in the hearts of men, or behind mysterious doors in forbidden Aztec temples? Indy Holl might know, except that he is now lying at the bottom of a pit, looking dazed, and stiffly pulling himself to his knees. "'Lani," he mumbles thickly. Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima lands in the pit with a wild war- whoop, yanking the whip free so that it, and she, land rather heavily in the pit. Or would, if it weren't for the combined efforts of a bunch of fire-lizards and the Lysseth-parakeet; as it is, Kassi is managed to be pulled up enough so that her landing is considerably less violent. And people wonder why she keeps all those FLs around. Whewing with relief as her green FL-torch brightens again, she looks around, and utters the ultimate cliche line: "Where are we?" Mehlani pages: True to Film Hero fashion, Indy appears to have banged something, for he is holding his left arm stiffly as he makes it to his feet. "A pit," he replies helpfully, reaching to gather up the whip again and coil it at his belt. "The problem is, where's 'Lani? She's not here.... and I sense she's in danger...!" The former bronze starts briskly searching the walls for any sign of a hidden activator for a way out of here. Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima sighs as the torch does indeed seem to have gone out (at least, she can't see it anywhere); good thing *someone* was prepared with a few proddy fire-lizards. For once, the little critters come in handy. Who knew? "Has she been kidnapped by the bloodthirsty swoon spirits for their sacrificial rituals?" Kassi asks, oh-so-helpfully. Mehlani pages: Indy Holl growls, "How could _spirits_ kidnap my pet -- er, sweetheart?! There's gotta be somebody else here... dammit! I shoulda gone first! This is my fault!" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima lifts a shoulder in a shrug. "Probably," she concurrs. "But she wanted to get away from the Water pretty badly. Don't let it depress you when there's still a Ring to find! I suspect we'll be able to find her, though. After all, it's an unwritten rule that you always must be able to rescue your kidnapped companions before they buy the farm." Mehlani pages: Indy Holl glowers bluely over at Kassima and retorts, "Well, this quest was your idea in the first place, toots -- got any brlliant ideas on getting us outta here?" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima .o0(Toots?) Shaking her head for a moment, she hrms. "Why not check the guidebook for some kind of secret clue that will lead to a passageway deep in the heart of the Temple, where we may all confront the Swoon Priests and do battle to free Mehlani and locate the Ring of F'lar for once and for all?" Sometimes, it pays to know the script. Mehlani pages: Indy Holl, clearly, forgot all about the secret Temple Diary. Smacking his forehead (and trying not to knock his fedora off), he whips out the book and starts flipping anxiously through it for the section on "Where to go in the temple to rescue vanished maidens." Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima takes advantage of Indy's reading time to snap a few more Poloroids of him in his kilt, resisting the urge to sing the theme song from some film commercial about these being the memories that you treasure for life. From afar, Indy-Holl looks up, then, fiercely, and slaps the wall on a stone marked, "Slap this to find the way to the vanished maiden" in Aztec runes. .oO (Whey the heck didn't I see that before?) ruminates the bronze turned archaeologist. .oO (Clearly I'm not quite used to having to think about more things than skitches and food and 'Lani... *sniffle* 'LANI! I'll save yah, kid!) And with that, the slapped stone causes a section of the wall to slide aside, with an ominous, long, drawn-out creeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaak. Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima .o0(Brains. Remind me to specify evil *and* brains next time. Maybe, with enough specifications that *work*, I could transform an LCB into this form to corrupt into an Evil Ally... but that thought can wait. It's too hard to think with all this creaking!) Kassi pauses in her ponderings to peer (alliteratively, no less) into the depthless, dank darkness. "Do you hear anything?" She perks up her own ears, which are still vaguely pointed--curse you, Dev Team!--to try and hear.... Mehlani pages: Insy Holl scowls, listening attentively. "I hear... _something_," he mutters, then shuts up to hear it better: from somewhere within the darkness, indeed, can be heard the distant wailing of.... swooning priestesses? You paged Mehlani with '"That," Kassi announces firmly, "is the sound of swooning. I know it well! Been trying to program the LCG's vocal chords to stop making that sound, since I figure it and swooning might be conne--but I digress," she says hastily, figuring that since she's not the prime evil villain at the moment, for *once* she doesn't have to reveal *all* her Plans to the good guys. "We need," she proclaims dramatically, much in the fashion of Larry Appleton (except female), "a Plan!"'. From afar, Mehlani's typist halts Indy, as typist must now kerbamf. BBL. Yet More Time Passes.... You paged Mehlani with 'Quite, quite a thought. My Notepad O' Evil is getting just filled to the brim with ideas of late! Funny how wandering around in an ancient bloodsoaked, cursed Aztec temple is a source of inspiration.'. Mehlani pages: Amazing, ain't it? Mehlani pages: (And speaking of that cursed, bloodsoaked Temple..... where, oh wehre has our little 'Lani gone?) You paged Mehlani with 'Very. Hrm... last thing I remember, I was making some sort of dramatic Larry-Appletonish statement about needing *suspenseful pause* a Plan!'. From afar, Mehlani, deep in the bowels of that very temple, wakes up, and wishes she hadn't, for it's dark and dank and dreary and other assorted d-words of doom in this place she's found herself in. There's lots more ghostly drumming here, and she appears to be lying on some kind of altar.... oh dear. Mehlani pages: And Indy Holl, whose plan largely consists of a) finding 'Lani, b) whipping the bejeezus out of anything htat's dared to harm her, and c) the obligatory flight through the temple with all its angry denizens hot on his bootheels, has already snuck off through the underground passages, following his Impression bond to the girl. "A plan," he mutters. "Since when am I supposed to come up with plans?!" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima, still listening to what is definitely the sound of swooning, catches the faint beat of drums as well. "Oh, no, not again," she groans, for once getting some use out of her line in the HGTTG. "Y'know, I get an eerie feeling," she tells Indy Holl, "that Mehlani's going to be the victim in a sacrificial swooning ritual shortly. It ties in with the plot, it's suspenseful, it's dramatic...." She sighs and shakes her head as she follows after the already-departing hero, muttering something uncomplimentary about good guys in general. "Rush, rush, rush. Never stop to ponder all the possibilities, never try to conceive plots that will ruin lives for generations--what *do* people see in them?" Mehlani pages: Indy Holl muttergrumbles, "She'll never give in, I know it!" as he clambers up a little rise and peers warily over the top of it, out and down into a vast torchlit cavern below.... and indeed, there is what looks suspiciously like a sacrifical altar, on which Mehlani, now clad in a maidenly white gown, appears to be chained. Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima hrms as she peers down at the Aztecs... some of whom don't appear to be Aztecs at all, but Nazis! Which makes utterly no sense, unless this has secretly been the hiding place of escaped Nazis for generations... but, such things are pretty irrelevant to the plot. All that anyone really needs to know is that there are lotsa enemies down here. "Maybe not. If she can wander through this Temple for this whole movie with you without swooning, I'm not sure what *could* make her swoon--then again, there're an awful lots of kilts and feathered fedoras down there. So! What are the chances of surviving a jump into that cavern from above for the sake of the element of surprise, not to mention lots of gore and bloodshed and other such amusing things?" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima adds, looking a bit annoyed and frustrated, "And where's the Ring? Don't tell me we came all this way not to even get the Ring. I mean, I for one am not going to be satisfied with a 'I Explored the Temple of Swoon and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt' souvenir." Mehlani pages: Indy Holl keeps low, scanning the cavern in detail. 'There,' he mutters, pointing with a gloved hand off towards what appears to be a shrine, guarded by two very LARGE feathered guys, not too far away from the altar on which his beloved 'Lani is imprisoned. "That's gotta be it. Think, you idjit flit, _think_..." Mehlani pages: Then, glancing at his companion, Holl adds, "Chances? Two of 'em: slim, and none." He sighs, though, and stands. "My kinda odds!" With that, he whips out the bullwhip, and looks for another one of those handy ceiling beams, or maybe a conveniently positioned outcropping of rock, he can lash the whip to. Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima rolls her eyes, but not out of total scorn; after all, those're her kind of odds, too. That and '100%'. Gotta love guarenteed success... but she digresses. "I suppose we could always just swing over the place and drop a puberty bomb on them all, then cut 'em from behind while they fight over 'Lani," she muses thoughtfully. "So long as we get to kill them all at some point, I really don't care how. I've still got some of that Water left, come to think of it...." Mehlani pages: Indy scowls as a kilted priest, looking exceptionally handsome in a fashionable pattern of gold and black, saunters up to the sacrifical altar and proclaims, "Okay, Aztecs, ritual time! We must make this maiden swoon!" "Over my dead body," growls Indy Holl, as he grabs onto the now-coiled-about-a-rock whip. before he swings out dramatically towards the priest, he hisses back at Kassima, "Don't even THINK about that Water!" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima snorts. "Why not?" she asks, a hose attached to a fire hydrant full of Water (don't ask why there's one in the setting; there just *is*) already in hand. "After all, a lot of pregnant male Aztecs would get me a *big* bonus from the National Enquirer." Whistling sharply, she summons the Lysseth-parakeet and zaps her back into something nearer appropriate size. A green-dragon- sized parakeet. Oh, well. You take what you can get. Hopping aboard the bird, who squawks quite indignantly, she yells, "Make my day!" down at the priests. She's *always* wanted to say that! Still dressed in the fashionable robes of a priestess, a hose full of water in one hand, and a tri-bladed wickedly gleaming steel knife in the other, she probably looks like a lunatic in the process. Mehlani pages: Several hundred Aztecs and nazis look up, and yell in shock at the sight of a leather-clad former bronze fire lizard and a - - what the heck is a priestess doing on a giant parakeet, anyway? Shooting begins with a vengeance, and Indiana Holl grimaces as he's winged along one arm before he lands heavily next to the High Prieset by the altar. "Let the girl go!" he hollers. From afar, Mehlani looks up and shakes her head dizzily; perhaps she is under some kind of a spell, for she has a hard time tearing her eyes away from the high Priest! The Priest bellows, "Seize the intruder!", and Indiana Holl is promptly tackled. *WHUMP* *WHUMP* *WHUMP* "Ow!" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima fires her hose down at one of the Priests, who begins to glow in a rather motherly fashion and, turning green, runs off as morning sickness takes effect. Cackling wildly, Kassi continues knocking off Priests whenever she can get a good aim... which is to say, not often. Ever tried to get good aim while perched on the back of a giant parakeet? It's not easy. "You all couldn't even make a sickly LCG swoon," she shouts at them, then glacks as Indy's tied up. "And tying up hapless men in kilts? The audience won't be able to see him, all tied up!" Mehlani pages: The High Priest chortles, richly, in a suave baritone. "We do not need your LCG's, intruder! We have... _her_." And he turns to the captive Mehlani, practicing a sultry, stormy look in her direction, and making Indiana Holl bristle with rage -- at least as well as he can while getting tied up. Stubbornly, Mehlani clamps her eyes shut, and refuses to look! Mehlani pages: In the meantime, the commander of the Nazis frowns, sensing another Evil Presence in the cavern, and grabs two of his lieutenants to have a conference. "We can't shoot that parrot, it's on our side!" "It is? Why the heck is its rider shooting us with a hose?" "Dumkopf! Do you not sense the rippling in the Dark Side of the Force?!" "Mein Kapitan, das ist der wrong movie!" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima rolls her eyes. "Oh, please," she grumbles. "As if making her swoon's going to be *that* easy? You can't imagine all the sorts of things I've done to try and accomplish it, and you want to make her swoon *now*, when I'm *this* close to getting the Ring for once and for all? Suck Water, tuber-brain!" She aims the hose, but apparently, Salless's homemade Water has *gasp* run out! "SAM!" she bellows. "I'm going to GET you for this one!" Mehlani pages: The Priest glares handsomely at Kassima. "You do not understand, infidel parrotrider," he replies. "This maiden's admiration will increase our power tenfold!" And the Nazi commander puts in, "Ve vill go down in history with our Aztec allies as the most powerful force in der world! We COULD cut you in, Fraulein...." From afar, Mehlani declares primly, "I don't swoon over Evil," and peers anxiously around the Priest where a couple of underlings, one in feathers and the other one sporting swastikas, are trying to clobber Indiana Holl; the latter is growling, "And dis ist for that stunt you pulled mit der Ark!" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima glares back, greenriderishly. A nearby tapestry spontaneously combusts as a result, and Kassi reminds herself to try and get some better control over that. As the Nazi speaks, she hrms thoughtfully. "Will you give me the Ring if I do?" She makes another mental note: kill them all, once she's got the Ring. Muwahahaha. As if Evil would ever make a binding treaty without something *threatening* it first? Meanwhile, the Wand of Polymorph she was about to zap yon Priest with falls out of her hands and goes clattering over to where Mehlani and Indy Holl are... quite coincidentally, of course, but to the audience, it will *look* purposeful. And isn't that all that matters? From afar, Mehlani winces in horror and sympathy at the sight of blood dramatically streaking the side of Indy Holl's head, just under the fedora, and she calls on the Impression bond to send to him anxiously, << Holl! Oh, Indiana Holl, get the wand! Get the wand! >> Mehlani pages: And Indy Holl jerks his head up, blinks twice. Wand? What wand? Oh, THAT wand! A surge of adrenaline, not to mention rapture at hearing his beloved 'Lani's call, replenishes his strength, and he socks the Aztec with a hard right to his bronze jaw, before whirling to belt the Nazi upside his helmeted head. CLANG! Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima starts to applaud the fistfight, then realizes she's not getting on any of this action. "Hey! If there's any mauling and murdering to be done around here, then *I'm* going to do it!" At that moment, Sam fixes the Water problem, and a veritable geiser of the stuff spurts from her uplifted hose, making it too much of a struggle to just control the thing (normally, she wouldn't bother, but she's not risking getting splashed, here!) that she doesn't have time to complain. Rather, she and the giant Lyssakeet run around the room, yelling curses that would make sailor's blush as they try to regain control of the hose. Just where the Water's going is anyone's guess.... Mehlani pages: The Nazi commander says blithely, "Of course ve vill give you der Ring, Fraulein -- all you have to do is kill your friends." And with that, he steps around smartly to gesture to Indiana Holl, who is currently battling his way through a tangle of henchmen to reach the entrapped maiden. Indy's gotten the wand, and is zapping foes right and left, turning them into dogs, kittens, the occasional acid blob, and one forlorn little red mold. Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima *finally* gets the hose back, and turns it full on Sam, thus getting the revenge she's been after since the start of this whole fiasco. "That's all?" she asks the Nazi incredulously. Then she gets a Thought. "Indy!" she yells over. "If we all live through this, would you be willing to stick around long enough to go after the Amulet of Yendor in the Dungeons of Doom? It should be in a museum!" Hmmm. Now where have we heard *that* line before? Mehlani pages: Three Nazi kittens and an Aztec jackal suddenly become extremely plump, and have to waddle out of the fight! Sam the Sound Effects Guy yelps "Oh boy," starting in a baritone and finishing up soprano as the Water turns him into a fresh-faced young mother with triplets, and in the meantime, Indiana Holl, amazingly dry at the moment, blinks up at Kassima. "Another artifact? Where?!" << Duck, Indy Holl! >> yells Mehlani, and the adventuresome ex-bronze does so. Mehlani pages: A nazi fist and an aztec one collide over Indy's head, making their owners yelp curses in their respective native tongues. Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima looks impressed by the cursing, still pointing the hose straight up; a good thing the ceiling's kinda absorbant, being made of pumice or sponge or something. But who knows how long *that* will last...? "In the Dungeons of Doom!" she yells at the top of her lungs--which, as anyone who has heard her yelling at Lysseth before can attest, is rather loud. "Will you be willing to Quest for it, or won't you? Don't take all day about it! I've got to decide who's going to live through this, here!" She aims another gust of Water at Sam's triplets as she says this, just from sheer evil sadism. Mehlani pages: Indy yells, "Of course I will! It BELONGS in a MUSEUM!" with that, he belts the final two henchmen, and finds himself once more facing... the High Priest. "Release the girl!" Mehlani pages: The Priest crosses his arms. "She is mine, and I'll make her swoon, infidel! Unless you wish to challenge me to single combat?" From afar, Mehlani bites her lip. Indy Holl is already battered and bruised in a dozen places -- just like she'd figured, he's gone and gotten himself HURT! *sniffle* -- and his chances of lasting through a fight with this big feather-bedecked fellow do NOT look good. Especially with the Nazi commander sneaking up nearby, bearing a machine gun and muttering direly about revenge for that incident with the blimp. Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima nods and turns to the Nazi, looking almost apologetic. "The more Artifacts, the more Evil, the more glory, and so, I'm afraid I have to help the good guys." With that, she turns the hose on him, and directs Lysseth towards the combat in the center, the giant parakeet squishing people as she goes. "Yo! Hors d'oeurve boy!" One of the Nazis looks up, to be chomped by Lysseth. << Less filling, tastes awful, >> the green gags as her rider vaults off to attempt the famed flying tackle on the man with the machine gun! Mehlani pages: It's then that inspiration strikes Mehlani. << Indy! Indy Holl, yes, challenge him! >> Indy whirls and flicks 'Lani a look that, if he were still a fire lizard, would involve a brightly orange whirling of his eyes. Right now, though, he just gapes. << 'Lani honey, did he hit you on the head or something?! >> The girl just blushes a bit and shyly averts her gaze, but _also_ sends her plan to Indiana Holl.... Mehlani pages: Indy blinks, three or four times, then suddenly gets a huge grin on his face, a rather big and giddy grin. Then he hastily steels himself, looking businesslike again, and thrusts a finger to point threateningly at the priest. "I challenge you to prove you're worthy of this girl! May the more swoonful man win!" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima bleahs as she tries to 'page Indy', then lands heavily on the machine gun guy, who looks justifyably surprised to have been tackled from above by a priestess riding a parakeet. "This is for being such an *idiot* to let the good guys win in the blimp incident," she informs him as she uses the notorious Greenrider Grip of Death on his throat. Glancing over to Indy and 'Lani, she whistles. "Oh, now this, I've got to see." Mehlani pages: The Priest poses dramatically (and quite handsomely in his kilt), and intones, "So begins the ancient ritual of swoon combat! We, the challenged and the challenger, shall match our wits, good looks, and all around excellence as examples of the male gender! The first one to make this maiden swoon shall be declared victor! And now, a scorekeeper! We need a scorekeeper!" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima jumps away from the now deceased Nazi and hauls a bullhorn out of her satchel. "Atten-SION!" she barks. "The Duel of True Swoonability is now taking place, and front-row seats are only two dollars--yes, just two dollars for the experience of a lifetime...." Kassi soon takes in a *lot* of cash from female Aztecs and Nazis, and a decent amount from guys who just want to see if there'll be any bloodshed. Tucking the moola away in her pocket, she asks, "What's in it for the scorekeeper?" Mehlani pages: Indiana Holl frowns suspiciously at the Priest. "Can't 'Lani keep score? I mean, geez, Jack, she IS the one we're supposed to be making swoon here, right?" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima takes a moment to wonder about the bizarrity of an Aztec named Jack, as she starts selling souvenir fedoras, feathered headdresses, and especially kilts to the observers. Mehlani pages: The Priest pats Mehlani on her cheek, suavely, and shakes his head. "Nay, infidel! As she is the sacrificial victim, she is not allowed to bias the contest with her own opinion until actual swoonage occurs. We must have a different scorekeeper!" From afar, Mehlani, not having counted on THIS little angle of the combat, meeps, as a pair of female Aztecs promptly wraps a gaudy cloth around her mouth to keep her from yelling out encouraging words to the combatants. Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima dishes out the last of the 'Indy' and 'Priest' pennants to the audience, and steps back from her booth, satchel filled to the brim with whatever the heck it is that Aztecs use for money. She glances at Mehlani, and, using her own telepathic ability, just has to note, << Y'know, it's times like this that there Impression bond thing could come in handy.... >> Ah, the indignity of it all, helping those who Fight for the Right! But if she ever wants to destroy the Ring of F'lar, end the Truce, and become a Demigoddess in the bargain, she'll have to suffer through a bit of unpleasantness. "Maybe we can work something out," she suggests to the Head Priest. "You need a scorekeeper, yes? So, how many magical implements of great evil are you willing to pay this scorekeeper with?" From afar, Mehlani peers at Kassima. << Why the heck can I hear YOU?! You aren't my fire lizard! >> In the meantime, the priest considers, stroking his strongly defined cleft chin in thought. "I can let you have a way nifty sacrificial athame," he suggests. "Over one hundred victims skewered." Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima shrugs. << Telepathy, of course. How would I be able to brainwash people without it? Mind-control is a wonderful thing. >> Turning back to the Priest, she hrms. "Sounds good. Has it been blessed by either Erevan Ilsere or the ProddyRiderGoddess, perchance?" Mehlani pages: Indiana Holl looks dubiously around at the audience, noticing the large number of females that have shown up out of nowhere, and noticing further that many of them appear to have written "I love you" and "Ich liebe dich" on their eyelids, to be easily read as they bat their eyelashes at the combatants. Turning back to the captive Mehlani, Indy sends, << You sure about this, honey? >> Mehlani replies modestly, << Quite sure. Humor me, Holl! >> Mehlani pages: The Priest nods benignly, or at least as benignly as an Evil Aztec high Priest CAN nod. "Naturally, with added oomph thrown in from our very own Huehotl!" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima snaps her fingers. "You've got yourself a deal! Just tell me what I've got to do. I can always use another Implement of Death and Torture." She takes a moment to peer at the strange people with stuff written on their eyes, and shakes her head. There are some things she's better off not knowing. << Never forget about the true Swoonability of being able to blush, especially while wearing a kilt! >> Lysseth-giant-parakeet 'paths to Holl on Kassi's request. << Kassi says that's killed a lot of LCGs, though why we have to help you *still* escapes me.... >> The voice subsides with a lot of grumbling. Mehlani pages: Indiana Holl, who's still quite dubious about this entire kilt concept to begin with (it doesn't go very well with his dusty jacket and fedora ensemble after all), informs the paradragon that he can understand blushing in a kilt, yeah. He steals a glance at Mehlani, finds her own strangely gentle and warm, and does blush a little under his coating of blood and dirt. Meanwhile, the Priest hands Kassima a Tome of Swoonability, and informs her, "Thou, O Appointed Scorekeeper, must choose from his sacred text those tenets of Swoonability with which we must do battle, and thou must judge the worthiness of us who do combat!" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima thumbs through the text, picking out a few tenets at random--very easy for a randomly random villain-type. "Hearken unto me, then, O Priests, Nazis, and Good-Guys!" she says in her best strident, echoing tone. As soon as people have hearkened unto her, she continues with, "He who shall prove himself most swoonable must be he who is dashing, courageous, and strong; who is sensible, just, and yet oddly suave; who looks the best in a kilt, who blushes the hue most resembling raging magenta, and who can win the admiration of yon maiden by looks and temperament! Oh, and they have to be able to do a good Scottish accent, too. Everyone knows men are even more swoonable in kilts while doing Scottish accents." She slams the book shut, passing it back to the Priest. "Dost thou agree to the Scorekeeper's Decree?" She taps the miniature spray-bottle of Water she still keeps at her belt; the better question is, do they have a choice? Mehlani pages: The Priest nods his feathered head, intoning broadly, "Verily, O Sacred Scorekeeper," while Indiana Holl mutters, "Okay, okay, let's get on with it." Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima turns to the audience, hands upraised, in a dramatic gesture that reveals just what a ham she is. Or maybe she's still trying for that Oscar. "Then let the trial of swoonability commence!" she cries. A bolt of black lightning zaps down from the sky to crack at her feet, leaving behind a smell of ozone but doing no damage. "Thanks, Phil," she yells up to the new effects guy. Mehlani pages: The audience oohs and aahs, as the lightning briefly and heartstoppingly illumines the two combatants. "It is apparent, for starters," says the Priest, "that I have the better fashion sense. Look at the infidel's kilt! He's gotten it all tattered and bloodstained, and blood definitely does NOT match that tartan." By way of reply, Indy Holl smirks, and drawls, "Not exactly my fault, Kahuna -- your pals have been trying to kill me!" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima hefts the hose of Water and just has to offer, "I could always fix that for you." She just has to let the good guys *live*, and the Flu isn't exactly *fatal*... quite.... "But, how do you counter the swoonability of wounds nobly gained in dangerous combat?" From afar, Mehlani, at the reminder that Indy is hurt, looks at him anxiously over her gag. He's still on his feet, but she doesn't like those red streaks on his jacket that weren't there when they arrived in the jungle. The Priest, in the meantime, cleverly replies, "By the fact that I have demonstrated the swoonable quality of clemency -- I have let him live, have I not?" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima inclines her head in acknowledgement. "A point. But I don't see you dead, either, so he apparently has the same quality. And what about the fedora, I ask you?" Mehlani pages: The Priest slides Indy Holl a sneer, then turns and beams gregariously. "I neither want nor need any fedora, for it should simply obscure the sight of yon maiden if I had a hat brim in my way." Mehlani pages: Indy Holl blinks, then grumps. "I _like_ my hat," he mutters. << I like your hat too, Holl, >> comes the gentle assurance from the captive maiden, and Indy peers over at her, surprised and pleased. He gives her a lopsided grin before returning to the matter at hand. Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima nods, unsurprised. She turns to Indy, and quirks up an eyebrow. "You might notice that yon Aztec has a sort of primitive native-type look to him, that's been known to weaken the knees of many a maiden. What would you say is your matching quality to this, hmmm?" Meanwhile, she takes out some white cards and hangs them on pegs. The score currently reads 2-1.5, in Indy's favor. "Mercy is no substitute for lots of blood," Kassi explains matter-of-factly. Mehlani pages: Indiana Holl's brow furrows, as he demands, "How the heck am I supposed to know? I mean, I don't exactly _ask_ girls what they find appealing about me, if anything... I just smooch 'em... er, um..." He trails off, and sneaks a guilty look at 'Lani. << Did I really smooch anybody else? My memory's hazy, honey... >> << It's okay, Holl. They were Salless and a couple of kitchen gals, and you were a fire lizard at the time and they were feeding you. That was legal. >> << Oh, okay, what a relief...! >> Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima nods sagely. "Right. So, you weren't arrogant enough to ask, which would probably lose you several swoons," she hangs another marker up on the pegboard, "and *everyone* knows that smooching is a marvelously swoonable quality. See these Poloroids?" She whips the pictures from her satchel and brandishes them. "Mehlani was closer to swooning than I've ever seen her, and d'you know how many plots have been thwarted by her seeming aloofness?" Another marker. "So, Aztec priest, what have you to say in your own defense?" Lysseth hides her head under one parakeet wing, rather ashamed to see her rider turning her qualities of argumentativeness and stubbornness to the Forces of Good. From afar, Mehlani, in fact, blushes prettily at the vividly captured image of her and Indiana Holl smooching one another vigorously. The Priest straightens to his full impressive height, and thunders richly, "I protest! The infidel has had a turn smooching yon maiden, and I have not!" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima lifts one shoulder in a shrug of indifference. "So, smooch her then." She readies her Poloroid, meanwhile trying not to think too much about the well-known fact that smooching with evil enemies just doesn't have as much appeal as smooching with a dashing, gallant hero, the only exceptions possibly being the nymphly and incubus/succubus types. It's right there in the Facts of Villainy for all to read. Mehlani pages: Indiana Holl bursts out with, "Don't you DARE touch her, pal!" at the very idea of the Priest smooching 'Lani, and 'Lani herself scoots away as best she can when boudn on an altar. The Priest smiles thinly, and replies, "I would not dream of forcing myself on a bound and helpless maiden. Nay, I would much prefer to woo her and win her with soft words and precious gifts, _then_ to smooch, when she has expressed her willingness in her words and eyes." Mehlani pages: The Priest finishes triumphantly, "I move that the evidence, Exhibit P" -- he waves a hand at the pictures, -- "be stricken from the record, Your Honor." Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima shakes her head. "Illegal," she pronounces. "Soft words are within the rules, but nothing was ever said about precious gifts." She then arches an eyebrow and demands, "Just who are you accusing of having honor?" Mehlani pages: Indiana Holl still bristles, the very picture of a battered hero reacting with all the shreds of his remaining strength to a perceived threat to his ladylove. "Yeah, that's right, pal, you better back off," he growls, only to have the Priest say blithely, "Oh, and did I mention I have much better manners?" To demonstrate them, he turns and prostrates himself to Kassima. "Forgive the slip of my tongue, O Evil Avatar of the PRG who has graced my humble shrine by offering her services as Scorekeeper of the Swoon Combat!" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima replaces the pictures in her satchel and hangs up another marker on the Priest's side. "There's something rather swoonable about having handsome men fall prostrate at your feet," she observes. "And compliments are always a plus." Another marker nearly ties the score: 4-3.5, still in Indy's favor by a slim margin. Two more markers are placed on the board, one on each side: "Good manners help to make someone seem suave, it's true, but there's still something to be said for that whole protector-nonsense. If you can't protect yourself, of course; if you can, it's kinda annoying, but in a cute way." Mehlani pages: Indiana Holl is starting to look nervous at the Priest's comeback. He says hastily and sternly, "Protecting myself is irrelevant -- I have to protect 'Lani. I can take a lot more damage than she can, and I don't want to see her hurt!" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima turns back to the audience, who are booing, cheering, and buying popcorn from Lysseth, who's walking around with a box of concession-stand goodies. She flashes them a grin, because she is, as it's been said, a ham; having done so, she turns back to the contestants. "We shall now address the swoonability of a leather jacket," she proclaims. "Leather is a very swoonable material, whether worn by man or woman. Yet I see no leather on you, Priest." Mehlani pages: Naturally," replies the Priest. "I live in a jungle, after all, and it grows far too hot here to be clad in leather all the time. Is it not sensible and wise to wear the garb appropriate to one's enviornment, not to mention one's occupation of choice, which in my case is Aztec Swoonpriest?" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima nods in agreement. "True, but kilts are made of heavy wool, and not wholly appropriate either. Shouldn't you be in a loincloth or something similarly primitive?" She gets a lot of cheers of agreement from the females in the stands, perhaps unsurprisingly. Mehlani pages: At that, the Priest smiles seductively. "What do you think I have on under the kilt, my dear?" You paged Mehlani with 'A few newer female recruits to the Temple swoon on the spot, but Kassi ignores them; fortunately for all concerned, nothing was said about making *others* swoon. She arches an eyebrow, and with a grin, inquires, "Have you ever thought about entering into the lucrative field of dragonriding? The LCGs could always use someone else to swoon at... well, I digress. A point to the Priest; since these ruins are admittedly somewhat chill, damp, and all that atmospheric stuff, the kilt makes sense. For the moment." The score is now slightly in the priest's favor, by .5. "Your defense, Indiana Holl?" You can just see the women in the audience thinking, 'This ought to be good.''. Mehlani pages: Indy, who through this entire exchange about kilts and loincloths has been stalwartly trying to pretend that he is in perfect physical health, says gruffly, "So if the kilt makes so much sense, where's his Scottish accent?" Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima also pulls a pair of--berets? Yes, berets, from her satchel as she awaits the answer. One cannot but wonder why she's been carrying berets around all this time... one also probably doesn't want to know. She glances at the scoreboard, then at Mehlani; the final prelude-round before the contest must surely be at hand. One can tell by the tension in the room (and, of course, the intensifying soundtrack). "We were just about to get to that," she replies, proffering the beret. "The final Trial of Swoonishness ere you may both try your swooning wiles on this maiden is That of the Scottish Accent." Mehlani pages: The Priest blinks, then ahemcoughs, considers, and delivers in a voice that makes him sound suspiciously like an Aztecian Mel Gibson, "Ah willnae ever leave my bonnie lass's side!" even before he gets the beret. From afar, Mehlani, still bound and gagged, blinkblinks at that rather impressive accent from the Priest, and her eyes glaze over a little. Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima hrms, brow furrowing as she makes some notes on her notepad. "I'd have phrased it e'er instead of ever and me instead of my, or perhaps m', but not bad overall. Indy, your turn." Mehlani pages: Indiana Holl warily eyes the beret, then grudgingly removes his fedora, revealing a shock of fetchingly rumpled short brownish-blond hair. Thinking fast, and blinking at a sudden memory of his father, Henry Holl Sr., and the fact that HE has a Scottish accent, he offers up with a touch of a burr to his voice, "Um, may, um, may she who illum'nates th' altar illum'nate me." From afar, Mehlani's gaze shoots to Indy Holl, and her eyes brighten considerably. Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima jots a quick note in her notepad. "I can find no fault with that." She adds a marker to each side, then another half-mark to Indy's, tying them at Six to Six. "The score is tied," she proclaims, in that carrying voice that most Priestesses and/or Evil Villains have mastered. "Both have proven themselves swoonable, by my word as Scorekeeper. The final decision rests with Mehlani. Archaelogist, Priest--you may try to woo the maiden. But heed! Take turns, and be orderly, else it shall be too hard to determine just who she's swooning at, and you'll both pay the forfeit of the contest with no one left as victor." Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima grins at the audience again as she catches sight of some entranced faces, locked on the suspense. She's gonna get an Oscar, she's gonna get an Oscar.... A telepath skilled enough might pick up that sing-song from her mind. Lyss certainly does, and looks disgusted--but then, what else is new? Mehlani pages: The Priest claps his muscular hands, bidding the two Aztecs guarding 'Lani to ungag her. Mehlani grimaces daintily, then sits up on the altar as she is untied, as well. Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima uses the zoom lens on the camcorder, not wanting to miss any of this. Especially if, after all these thwarted attempts, Mehlani *finally* swoons; it should be recorded for posterity, dontchaknow! Mehlani pages: With that, the Priest and Indy glare at one another as the priest says to the archaelogist, "As challenged party, I demand the right to go first!" Mehlani pages: Indy steps back a little, and says tiredly, "Be my guest, pal..." Mehlani pages: Grinning enticingly in triumph, the Priest zips off and promptly returns, armed with his best wooing garb, fine foods (including expensive chocolates), and a full ten-piece Aztec band to play mood music. "Will you be mine, O Maiden?" From afar, Mehlani watches the Priest argue his case, and actually blinks a little, looking quite overwhelmed by such a lavish display. Her brief look of uncertainty makes Indiana Holl swallow hard, and his already exhausted features take on a look of "Eek, does she love him better than me?" as well. Long distance to Mehlani: Kassima projects to Indy, << Oh, good planning--he can weaken her, then you can move in for the kill! >> Just figures Kassi'd put it in terms like those. She glances up at Phil and winks at him; the Sound Effects guy promptly hits the MUTE MUSIC button. A mysterious silence descends over the Temple for causes unknown to everyone else. .o0(I knew replacing Sam was a good idea.) Mehlani pages: Utterly unaware that the camera has just zoomed in on his look of plaintive dejection, allowing any female viewers to behold him and go, "Awwwwwww!", Indy Holl blinks at Kassima, then steps forward awkwardly to Mehlani. "Um... you know I've, um, cared about you ever since the day I hatched...." You paged Mehlani with 'The thought, 'Hatched?!?!' registers on a lot of Aztec/Nazi faces as Kassi does a quick pan shot of the audience. Lysseth, still watching, snaps mentally, << Show her, you idiot! What else is the Impression bond for? >> Kassi throws a beret at Lysseth; heck, even she knows better than to call Shardingly Handsome Ex-Bronze FLs 'idiot.' Well, most of the time.'. From afar, Mehlani tears her gaze away from the now-confused Aztec priest, who has taken a moment to check with the equally confused band as to why their instruments suddenly aren't working. The Priest gets another confused look as the now bare-headed archaeologist talks about hatching, too. Mehlani nods gently to Indy, and assents, "I could feel it, when you took the spiderclaw out of my fingers and crooned." Mehlani pages: (And on a surge of soft music -- from the NON-muted main orchestra -- Mehlani pauses, as her typist runs off for the bus. ;) )