1621: Heroes and Villains – Chapter Eleven, Part TwoPosted: December 14, 2016
Title: Heroes and Villains
Author: Horrible’s Igor
Media: Television / Movies
Topic: Buffy: The Vampire Slayer / Kitchen Sink
URL: Heroes and Villains (Now Defunct)
Critiqued by TacoMagic and Eliza
Heyo patrons! Welcome back to the second half of chapter eleven, I know you’re all as excited as I am to see how things end.
As a recap, well, not much happened. Elsa had a Deeply Portentous Dream™ where she was devoured by replicators followed by a Familiar Guy™ in black boots apologizing. After that, it was basically a rehash of the dream and other sundry information that we already know.
“This week we’re back with Dr. Horrible who is having a bad case of being shipped with Elsa.”
Have you ever had one of those times when you say you want to be left alone when really you want just a certain person to talk to, but they aren’t there?
Can’t say I ever have. Then again, I also can’t stand others as a rule.
Doc was having one of those times right now.
The minutes seemed like hours- his blog had only taken a few minutes out of his pre-work day and he was too antsy to focus on the Freeze Ray.
“A baaaaad case of shipping.”
Bad Horse had sent the League an e-mail saying that, as per an alteration to the deal, they would be going downtown to get the wonderflonium themselves.
So, now Bad Horse is going to do the thing that he tasked another organization to do as part of a bargain to effect a personnel transfer. The thing that Bad Horse didn’t want to succeed so that he could [error: motivations not found].
Igor, what the fuck where you thinking when you cooked up this plot!?
Doc had appreciated the potential bookending- his first successful heist had been the ’08 Wonderflonium Incident, which was key in his admittance to the E.L.E., and wouldn’t it be just a hoot if his last E.L.E. heist was for wonderflonium too?
Or, you know, if you don’t want to be transferred, you could just sabotage the mission. Sweet crap, why can none of the villains think like freaking… uh…
*ALARM BLARES. BRAYS.*
“On it.” *She grabs her glitter projection rifle and trots out into the hall*
-[One scene of hyper-velocity iridescence later]-
Well, at least Living Stone decided to sit that round out. He hates being fancy.
“Chapter eleven of twenty-two.”
He swung open the door to the halls, beginning to wander aimlessly. He wanted to talk to Elsa, but she wasn’t here.
I think you’re right.
“He’s got it BAAAAAD!”
Don’t let ship-at-first-sight happen to you.
Why did it have to be that the only way he’d ever see her again involved being pulled out? Six of one, half-a-dozen of the other.
Because visiting people just as a social call is impossible.
“What about the League and Willow Corp. doing business all the time?”
Nope, never happened. No chance that he would ever see Elsa while doing business.
“But last chapter-”
Chapters before the current one don’t exist!
If there is a god, he thought, there will be a way to talk to her again without any caveats. Someone will come up with something.
“I’ve heard that there’s a gentleman named Alexander who is working on a machine that can let two people at long distance talk to each other as if they were in the same room.”
Man, that’ll be super handy!
He began to feel claustrophobic. The walls felt like they were losing in. He needed air.
So, is his panic attack from being shipped, or from realizing he’s trapped in this horrible fic?
He rushed for the door, yearning for the warm morning air and the sun on his face to clear the dust swirling in his head so he could perhaps think.
Sorry, Dr. Horrible, but sadly the possibility of any characters in the fic thinking disappeared a long time ago.
He reached the double doors, swinging them open dramatically-
And there she was, her right hand raised to knock on the door.
“This is going to be painful to read isn’t it?”
Their conversation is starting with a Dickens-esque coincidence. What do you think?
“I’ll prepare the pith helmets and sickness bags.”
Oh my god.
There she is.
Whoever you are, I am eternally indebted to you for this and will never be able to fully express my gratitude.
His name is Horrible’s Igor. He’s also to thank for the swirling mist that you all live in.
“Not to mention Bad Horse’s sudden change of heart.”
“Why are you here?” he asked, shocked.
“Probably doesn’t have anything to do with the buisiness deal that you’re both involved in.”
Wait, wasn’t she supposed to be leaving him alone?
“She said she had experience leaving people alone, not that she was good at it.”
Worst hermit ever!
“I-I was sent,” Elsa stuttered, her hand still raised.
“W-why?” Doc asked, still a bit amazed.
So much for the thinking that might have happened outside.
“She didn’t want any… convenient deterrences,” Elsa eventually decided, lowering her hand.
“I’ll add ‘deterrence’ to the list.”
Generally, if you don’t want your opponent to ruin your heist, you don’t let them help plan and execute it. Just saying.
I immediately rescind my previous statement and hope I one day have the chance to curse your entire being in person.
Once again, his name is ‘Horrible’s Igor.’
“Oh,” he snarled. “So you’re here to make sure she wins.”
“How dare she try to assure that her team wins!”
Yeah, what a jerk.
“Hey, if you want to get mad at someone, get mad at her, not me,” Elsa replied angrily.
There’s more then enough blame to spread around.
“Seems like the first point of blame goes with Bad Horse for entering into the bargain in the first place, even if he did plan for the agreement to fail.”
Actually, he gets more blame for deciding to actually help Willow.
“The friend of my enemy is my enemy until proven otherwise,” Horrible shot back. Nearly forgot that bit.
“Nearly forgot which bit?”
Elsa raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Impressive,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “how long did that take you to come up with?”
Uh, well, the original version of the saying has been around for a few millennia and is extremely well know. However, the handicap of this fic probably requires prep time for a come-back. So no more than two or three weeks.
“Shorter than it took you for that devastating comeback,” he snapped.
“Well, I’m glad to see we’re apparently getting someone with no respect for others,” Elsa said, giving him a baleful glare.
“Oh yeah, well ur mom!”
“Well, that happens, when you- y’know- aren’t respectful to me,” Horrible replied in a mocking deadpan.
I… wha? How would saying that in deadpan be mocking? Are those on the list?
“Yeah, but I’ll add them again.”
“At least one of us isn’t trying to antagonize everyone he meets,” Elsa responded coldly.
Did Elsa have a gender change or is she talking about somebody else?
“EEEEEE! MElsa and Dr. Horrible slash fic!”
*Taco rubs his ear*
“Ooo- you’ve certainly got quite the acid tongue,” he grinned.
You know, it’s been a while since I’ve seen a good ol’ case of tension through bitching. Can’t say as though I missed it.
“How long do they go on like this!?”
Basically for the rest of the chapter. Though it slowly switches from kindergarten insults to junior-high banter.
“I can’t wait.”
“I like to think of it as a part of literally being frosty,” Elsa smirked.
Look, dude, none of the comebacks make any sense. You still can’t gong her without getting turned into a sheepsicle.
“Your cousin is not an amarok, he’s a demon sheep in amarok’s clothing.”
Look, if he wants to try his luck getting frozen solid, he’s free to.
“Okay… I see how this is- well, could be,” he corrected himself.
“You said is,” Elsa pointed out.
“Do you know what they’re talking about.”
“Glad it isn’t just me.”
“You’re rigging the game- of course I’d be inclined towards pessimism,” Horrible growled.
“The heck is he talking about? Bad Horse was the one rigging the game, until he forgot that he was rigging it and decided to help. Willow was going out of her way to not do anything that could be interpreted as villainous.”
I think even the plot is confused about what’s supposed to be going on so it is just kinda happening randomly at this point.
“Although-” he mimed checking his watch, “it’s what, 8? And you need everything by noon?” He grinned again, swinging his finger like a pendulum. “Tick-tock, tick-tock.”
“Stop stalling and we’ll all get to it,” Elsa replied hotly. “Bad Horse promised.”
Because Bad Horse, true to his name, is really bad at this whole evil thing and keeps his promises.
His grin soured into a snarl. “Well then, let’s start the show,” he grumbled, stepping out into the sun and down the stairs.
“It’s lucky that they don’t need a plan or anything.”
Without really thinking, he went for the driver’s door of the car out front- but it didn’t open. He looked down. It didn’t have a handle! No, wait, it did- but it was flush with the surface.
“So not so much a handle as a metal panel.”
Oh great, I think we’re about to get more Tesla porn. I like the Tesla as much as the next person, but listening to the author gush about the Tesla via his fanfic adds about as much to this story as all the reactionary dialogue does.
Oh. My. God.
This was the Tesla. The Tesla. 2011-first-and-only-of-its-kind Tesla.
Igor, you may as well just take it out and rub it all over the page while you’re at it.
“If it’s the only of it’s kind, why does Willow’s organization have two distinct kinds?”
Because Igor sucks at consistency.
Or, more succinctly, a very cool car.
Sweet crap, man, we get it. Just have one off and be done with it!
“Have what off?”
Uh, you know, the thing.
The door handle popped out suddenly, and he looked up to see Elsa smirk as she opened the passenger door, flaunting the key in her other hand.
I gotta say, the amarok costume is pretty good, did you do it yourself?
Okay, then. You can give it a go if you like.
*Moments later a crew of Darkwraiths wheel a solid block of sheep-in-wolf’s-clothes past the riffing chamber*
Told you the amarok costume wouldn’t help.
“You think you’re so cool…” he muttered, a small smile crossing his face as he got in. “Got the fancy car, the fancy dress…”
Yes, yes, the car is awesome and it makes you hard. Can we fucking move on, already!?
“Only the best for the Queen,” Elsa quipped.
“Oh, now she’s ‘quipping.’ I’m so happy.”
You seem happy.
“Thank you! Might as well add ‘quip’ to the list.”
He laughed as he pulled out onto the road. “You royalty and your fetish for shiny things.”
I think there’s only one person here getting off to this shiny.
“Getting off what?”
“Sure are a lot of things getting off all of a sudden.”
They laughed, even the others in the back, before lapsing into silence.
GAH! Where the hell did they come from!?
“Hey, down in front!” *Popcorn rains down on Taco*
After a few moments, he blurted, “This is a custom Tesla, right?”
What was it he said earlier? Pop that up, please.
If there’s only one kind right now, then how could it be a custom?
“I’ll add it to the list.”
“Um- I think so,” Elsa replied, “but I’m not entirely certain.”
“Hmm. See, I remember Dead Bowie said that back in early 2008 we were doing a big job, and we needed… her help,” he said tightly.
“If by ‘help’ you mean ‘money’ then yes, that is true.”
I hope the next observation is along the lines of, ‘Wow, so she wasted all that money on these?’
“She agreed to help as long as we got her an über-Tesla as payment.
“If you just add the word über to something, it’s so much cooler!”
Said it needed some sort of self-driving A.I. to- like- help drive in case her hands were full or something like that.”
And now it’s confirmed that Willow is absolutely the worst business person in the evil biz. No wonder she doesn’t have any more money. Lend the League enough money to cause a global recession, only ask for a fancy car in return.
“Sorry, ‘A.I.?” Elsa asked,
“Artificial Intelligence,” Doc explained.
They were silent for a little while.
“That whole exchange was kinda pointless, wasn’t it?”
“Sorry about that.”
“You haven’t been here long, have you?” Doc asked suddenly.
To be fair, Dr. Horrible is rather awkward around women.
“No, no…” Elsa replied. “A few months at the most.”
“Hmm… If everything goes according to the plan, what’ll happen with me?” he asked. “Do you know?”
He’s not very good at smalltalk either.
“You would come back to headquarters with me, get a tour of the building, and then have the night off before we start our next project,” Elsa replied.
Which is pretty much all stuff we know, more or less. Why does this chapter exist, again? No, really, what is it accomplishing? Thus far everything has either been empty portent, recycled information, or character reactions to recycled information. This chapter is somehow even more empty than the ten leading up to it!
“What’s it like there?” Doc asked. “Just out of curiosity.”
“…Big,” Elsa began, “…very organized… Everyone’s pretty nice… They’ve got quite a lot of manpower.”
By ‘a lot’ she means there are at least four people working there. Possibly five.
“Being completely empty is a form of organization. And it’s certainly big and empty.”
So, she told something related to the truth!
“And this ‘Miss Rosenberg’? What’s she like?”
“Imagine a sleeping cat, but less active.”
“Well-… I don’t quite know where to begin,” Elsa admitted. “She’s… interesting. She’s a witch… ‘hacker’… She can be sarcastic sometimes, but she’s nice as long as nobody gets her mad.”
We might as well just take Igor’s word on it because the fic isn’t going to give us any real characterization to go on.
“And if they do?”
“Well, I haven’t seen anything first-hand, but- I did hear her on the phone with Bad Horse last night-“
“If Elsa really thinks being brusque on the phone is considered scary behavior, maybe she really was a bad queen.”
Somehow I have no problem imagining this version of Elsa being useless on the throne.
“Ohhh, that’s what that was-” Doc realized.
“She was livid,” Elsa continued. “About to snap.”
“Hair-trigger temper?” Doc asked.
“Quick to anger?” he tried again.
“Pretty much the only thing she’s quick to do.”
“Oh- no, not so much,” Elsa shook her head. “Only if it’s really important- which that- this- is.”
“Without Dr. Horrible on her team, Willow won’t be able to mrflmamlfm, and if she can’t do that, her plans for reparations won’t work!”
“You said ‘that’,” Horrible pointed out.
“I’m still- adjusting a little,” Elsa dodged.
Elsa still get used to pronoun.
“So you’re relatively new,” he deduced.
“Which is another fantastic deduction of something he was already told.”
At least this one isn’t still on the screen, you have to scroll up to see the spot where Elsa told him she was new.
“Not really-” Elsa said defensively.
“Why would she hire someone brand-new to become a partner?” he asked.
IGOR! Answer the man!
“Then why would she hire you?” Elsa shot back.
“He has a proven history of evil?”
Hiring somebody competent doesn’t sound like Willow at all, though.
For a moment Horrible was silent, before laughing quietly in surprise.
“Well, you certainly can fight with the best,” he said. “I’m impressed.”
Are you serious!? By this point in time Dr. Horrible would have a very established career as a villain. Why the hell would he be defeated by: ‘Oh yeah!? What about you?’
Elsa laughed bitterly. “Amazing what a little reality can change about a person.”
“A little reality would certainly change this fic. Or at least make Igor cringe about the quality.”
His smile slowly vanished. “Here, here.”
Yes, if only a little harsh dose of reality could have prevented this entire fic! *Raises glass*
And they drove on into the city.
And, thankfully, that’s where the chapter ends.
15. You should have had 15 chocolates or sweets of your choosing last chapter. There was 1 Sherlock Holmes reference, 1 Portal reference, one Monster’s Inc reference, 1 long Horrible Turn reference, 2 Welcome to Night Vale references, two Buffy references, three Frozen references, and three Sing-Along Blog references.
*Facepalm* *Headdesk* *Bodyfloor*
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING- *Taco falls flat on his face with a small dart sticking out of the back of his neck*
“Huh” *Eliza shakes her confetti cannon* “Not really sure how that got in there.”
“Aperture Science: We do what we must, because we can.”
“Igor, writes what he does because he doesn’t know better.”
Update: Due to the impending doom that is the pre-finals weeks, my schedule will be a bit spotty for a little while. Updates will continue, but most likely dialled back to every fortnight rather than every week.
Sorry about that.
Next chapter will be up on Halloween.
UPDATE: OKAY, I LIED AGAIN. I’M SORRY.
“Unfortunately, this doesn’t mean the fic got spotty and then ended right away. More that it got spotty and ended after a protracted period.”
Just give me ’til Thanksgiving. Please. I’ll have a nice long chapter and my perfect-storm excuse then. Thanks.
“Oh no, wait, did he really- One second.”
*Eliza reads down*
“He did. The next chapter is one of the longest in the entire fic. Taco is not going to be happy with that.”
*Eliza pokes Taco’s insensate body.*
“We should probably let him sleep. In fact, no need to tell him what’s coming up next week. Speaking of which, I’ll see you then, patrons!”