1693: Heroes and Villains – Chapter Fifteen, Part OnePosted: February 22, 2017
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
Hey, guys, I’ve finally dug myself out of the pile of stuff that built up while I was away, so now I’m ready to jump back into Heroes and Villains. As always, I’m hoping that something happens this week. With me again is Eliza, who also enjoyed her time off.
Okay then. Let’s hit the recap: Last time Dr. Horrible wandered around the volcano lair for a bit before he stumbled upon totally-not-Aluwyn, who fed him a bunch of Foreboding Pretentious Vagueness™ in hopes of [error: motivation not found]. Presumably Aluwyn is trying to drive a wedge between Dr. Horrible and Elsa so that Willow can move in and set up a three way with Aluwyn and Elsa. Those who’ve read the comic will recognize this as a perfectly sensible motivation for Aluwyn. After that, Horrible headed over to Elsa’s room to have a little smalltalk with her. Meanwhile, Willow confronts totally-not-Aluwyn about her talk with Dr. Horrible. This confrontation ends in more Foreboding Pretensions Vagueness™ and also ends the chapter.
This week we start with … well…
A Brief Timeline Shuffle
“So, is the author going back and changing things he screwed up?”
If that were the case, the fic up until now would probably have been better. Presumably this is Igor applying plot bandaids rather than doing the harder option of going back and making his story not totally suck.
There are several things that you will need to remember at some point in this story.
We might need to remember plot points and stuff!? Such novelty!
“Wouldn’t that require the fic to have plot points?”
I will proceed to list them for you now.
If you want a prime example of how not to plot, you won’t find one better. Similarly, it’s a great example of how to insult your audience’s intelligence.
They will crop up at some point in the 1000+ chapters that will be published in this story, and they will be of great importance.
And anyone who is surprised that Igor fell 978 chapters short of this prediction is obviously new here. Welcome! The pie buffet opens after the first redundancy and you can find fresh cookies at the bakery window fifteen hours a day.
1. The colour red
5. The concept of rebirth
4. A stalactite
2. The letter ‘e’
7. A broken piano key
“Translation: I’ve thought up a bunch of random things that I’ll work into the story in the future so that it seems like I’m actually planning things ahead of time.”
I bet Igor also thought it was profound to make his list numbers happen in random order. It’s also a bit of a nitpick, but the author’s use of British spelling is really inconsistent throughout the fic, which makes sense given that his profile lists him as an American, and I’m pretty sure he had an American accent in his youtube videos before they were pulled down. I’m so glad we don’t have a pretension alarm, the damn thing would have the Highly Ostentatious Top Secret Organization of Amazing People in here telling me about how much better they are.
“That acronym smacks of something.”
I think Crunchy may have had a hand in naming them.
That is all.
It’s pretty telling that the only ‘important’ things Igor could think of for people to remember about the fic are seven random things he came up with at the spur of the moment.
Meanwhile, in the actual story, if you can call it that.
Horrible looked at her in shock. “My fault? My fault?! If it wasn’t for the fact that you were so effing unwilling to go the distance, you and I would be in a much better position than we are now!”
Authors! If you’re going to skirt about profanity, you should either not include it, or go the whole way and just type it out.
“Is that a reference to Herculese?”
I hope so, otherwise it’s an awkward attempt to both be lewd, and paint Dr. Horrible as a manchild who thinks he deserves sex.
“You were the one who said that it was my choice!” Elsa shouted back. “It was my decision to make!”
Does this mean that this Elsa might finally grow a backbone rather than being a mopey puddle of uselessness!?
“And now we’re both suffering the consequences!” he yelled.
“This is going to be about something pointless isn’t it? Like a video game.”
Either that, or Igor is trying to inject some more angst into the fic without having to come up with anything specific for them to fight about.
“And now we’re both suffering the consequences!” he yelled.
Elsa growled with rage. “I had every right to be wary, Doctor! You know that!”
“Right, and because of your indecisiveness, you ended up broke, alone, and suffering from an effing shattered femur!” he roared.
Fucking. The word is ‘fucking.’ Swearing won’t hurt you, author. It might hurt your prose, but probably a lot less than using ‘effing’ instead.
“When did this all happen?”
Probably in the future. My guess is that Igor was rewatching Lost before he wrote this and decided to steal the random flashes to the past and future.
“That was not my fault!” she screamed, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “Do you hear me?! That was not my fault!”
“How was I supposed to know that hitting myself in the shin with a steel pipe would break it!?”
He slapped her hand away. “Don’t you touch me.”
“I had no control over that outcome!” she shouted. “There was nothing I could do!”
Are we sure this isn’t Willow? Seems like she’s far more likely to defend her lack of action than Elsa at this point.
“Maybe this is from the future where Elsa has studied long and hard under Willow to master the skill of inaction.”
You said long and hard.
“Yes I did!”
“You’re wrong!” he shook his head angrily. “You could have asked me to help you!”
“And what would that have done, hmm?!” she asked him. “What would that have accomplished?! Nothing!
“No, dear, you’re thinking of what would have happened had you asked Willow for help.”
If I had asked for your help, then both of us would’ve been killed!”
Instead of… neither of you? ¿Que?
“Well, the more of them that gather, the less capable they seem to be. They also make a lot more noise because of the talking. Not a good thing if there are predators stalking around.”
Eh, true enough.
“That’s not true,” he denied.
*Taco shrugs* At this point I think they’re just reciting lines from ANGST: The Memoirs of a Suffering Genius by Dave Eggers.
“It is, Doctor, and do you know why?” she asked him. “Because you have no idea what it means to choose love.
The fuck does that have to do with anything? How does that make this situation, whatever it is, mutually fatal?
*Shakes the fic*
What the fuck is going on!?
You don’t know what true sacrifice is. All you know is sitting in your laboratory, holding onto your precious Freeze Ray and lamenting the death of a girl you’d never even kissed, let alone loved!”
“Which also doesn’t seem to apply to Elsa’s broken femur or lack of money.”
But it’s so deep and dramatic! Like that one Garfield comic where he misses a kick to Odie and hurts himself instead.
“SHUT UP!” he bellowed, so loudly that she started and took a step back. He took the opportunity and began backing her up further and further. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” He backed her all the way against the wall, then grabbed her by the shoulders. “Shut up, you BITCH!”
He shoved her backwards, and her head hit the wall with a loud crack before she slid down to the floor.
“At least she didn’t question his leadership.”
Man, can you imagine what he’d have done if she did that!?
And with that, the scene ends just as it began: being vague, pointless, and clumsily grimdark.
Bum, ba-da-dum, ba-da-dum… BUM, ba-da-DUM, ba-da-DUM…
“The heck is that!?”
I think Igor is singing his own theme music. Another break later and-
“Ja, ja… nej, nej, ce n’est pas comme ça, O.K.?… Tack. Nej, jag vet du vet. Det är bra… Nej, jag ska inte! Jag tänker inte två veckar är trop pour tu, comprends?… Ja, ja, jag vet, jag vet… Det är två klockan!…”
I apologize to anyone who actually speaks Norsk, Swedish, and/or French. I only know a little french due to FPM’s influence, and I can already tell that whole thing is a ripe Google translate mess.
Elsa glared at him and quietly hissed, “Du vet- rrgh, you know who!”
Not incomprehensible enough for Cleverbot.
Doc turned to Willow and mouthed “I know who?”
“That’s what she said,” Willow nodded.
You better hope Herr doesn’t catch you using his lines. You’ll get such an Alma to the face if he does.
“Any idea what the French was?”
Doc thought about it. “Something about ‘it’s not like that’, and something else about ‘too much for you, understand’.”
Hmm, hold up a sec.
*A quick visit to uncle Google later*
Yup, those are the exact translations given for the French phrases. Which, given what we all know of Google Translate, means that they’re probably wrong.
Willow cocked an eyebrow. “Sounds riveting.”
Look, don’t work our side of the street, it’s our job to make fun of how boring your story is.
I’m just going to skip over the next line of language soup. It’s just in there to impress the audience with Igor’s ability to Google phrases into other languages.
“What was that all about?” Doc asked.
Elsa grimaced. “Our good friend was talking about coming up to see us, but I told her we’re busy at the moment. She’s hoping to come sometime this month.”
The who now?
“Their good friend!”
And that is?
“Duh, their friend. The quirky one that speaks all the languages. Weren’t you reading?”
Doc considered it. “Well, I know that we’ll have at least a few test runs done by mid-December, but no way in hell I’ll have hard data before the end of the month.”
The power levels of the stuff hasn’t even been optimized to properly run the thing yet!
“May I be informed of whom we are speaking?” Willow inquired.
“Hey! We might actually get to find something out!”
First time for everything I-
Elsa glared at her. “No, Miss Rosenberg. You may not.”
“I informed her of this, of course. She says she doesn’t care. Whether that means she doesn’t mind or she isn’t giving us leniency is uncertain.”
Totally not critical to have found out which is the case while talking to her. Business dealings are like that. You can basically do whatever and your customers/coworkers/funding sources are totally fine with it.
Doc sighed, looking down at the battery in his hands. “Remember when this was a brand-new thing? I miss those days- back when we weren’t so embroiled in grey-and-gray-morality power struggles and playing at being God.”
“Back when we were actually Villains and didn’t care about morality and just took the power.”
Back when the author wasn’t trying to have it both ways. Back before the fic existed…
“Back then we were so unhappy that we had to separate because we were being abusive towards each other,” Elsa pointed out darkly.
“Wait, so we’re in the future of the future?”
Either that, or Igor got bored of the horrible pacing and decided to skip forward to when the pacing is just as bad, but after some stuff happened. Stuff that apparently wasn’t important enough to flesh out in any meaningful way.
“Fair point,” Doc conceded.
Hell if I know. Apparently the plot of this turd is no longer any of our business.
“Miss? Miss, are you alright?”
She looked up blearily at a pretty young woman, no older than nineteen, with long blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. She was wearing a beautiful royal blue ball gown with no shoulders that sparkled in the light, and she had on sparkling eyeshadow to match. She really was quite pretty, one of the prettiest girls she had ever seen. It wouldn’t be nice to lie to such a lovely face.
So, is this the future future, the future, the presence, or some other point in the continuum?
“Maybe we’re in a different fic all-together!”
We could only be so lucky.
“No, child,” she responded, her practised English accent still flowing off her tongue perfectly despite her abysmal state. “I’m not alright at all.”
Not only is Igor wallowing in pretentious use of British English, but so is this character!
“Oh– I’m– terribly sorry to hear that,” the girl apologised. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Willow considered it a moment. “How much time’ve you got?”
That’s a pretty clumsy pass, even for Willow.
“Why is Willow affecting an English accent?”
Maybe she thinks it’ll get her laid.
“But she’s already laying on the floor.”
“Oh, all the time in the world,” the blonde laughed lightly. “I haven’t got to be home ’til morning.”
Apparently she gave herself plenty of time to be lost in the void tonight.
“D’you think you could keep me company for a little while?” Willow asked. “This is not a night I should spend completely alone.”
“The anniversary of the first time she laid on the floor?”
“C– certainly,” the girl agreed, sitting down next to her on the side of the road. “What’s your name?”
GAH! Where the hell did that road come from!?
“Gotta keep your eye out for roads. Almost as good at stalking as raptors.”
“Willow. What’s yours?”
The girl grinned. “My name’s Ella. It’s nice to meet you.”
If this is Ella Enchanted, I’m going to give this fic such a spanking.
“The same to you,” Willow smirked slightly.
She’s pretty woozy and out of it, you might be able to get away wi-
“Haven’t seen him that excited about a mark in ages!”
“So– what’s got you out here like this?” Ella asked. “You don’t seem like most of the people I see out here.”
Wait, she sees a lot of people laying in the road?
“It’s the most popular spot to lay down in the void. One of the most vague spots in it.”
Willow sighed deeply. “Well, truth be told, Ella, I’ve spent the past 6 months searching for a solution to a very big problem in my life, but my efforts have been fruitless thus far.
She has to get out of bed and into her chair by herself every day.
I need to find it soon, else my entire livelihood will be destroyed.
She might have to *gasp* sell one of the Teslas!
I have a lot of friends waiting for me to come back with this object I need– it’s this, ah, this… sort of… key, I s’pose. It’s sort of like a key, but it doesn’t look like one.
“Darkwraiths! Dive into the thing box and get us a key-like object that isn’t really a key but sort of is like one! You may need to check the vagueness compartment at the bottom.”
You found us Francis Scott Key…
“Definitely what Willow was looking for!”
I’ve searched the stars for it, and all of time at that, but I can’t for the life of me figure out where it is or who has it.
So she’s randomly wandering around the streets looking for something that looks like a thingy and, surprisingly, can’t find it. I’m not sure Willow understands how you track things down.
*Eliza snags a handful of indistinct matter out of the misty void* “This it?”
How the crap did you find it so fast!?
I don’t know where to turn to anymore.”
“Random people on the street didn’t work, so now she’s trying a random person on the street!”
I think her new plan has some promise.
Ella frowned. “D’you know what it does look like?”
Not entirely, but it might help if you’ve met Sergio.
“Sergio is always stealing my key-like non-key objects!”
“I do,” Willow nodded. “It’s a small little coin that has this design stamped into it, but the funny thing is is that every time you turn the face, the design changes: on one face you have a castle, another you have a waterfall, and on another there’s a thick book.
If the design changes every time, then telling the girl what’s been on it in the past isn’t terribly helpful.
I’ve never laid eyes on the designs themselves, but a coin with three faces isn’t exactly something one comes across very often.”
“Do I add ‘every time’ or ‘three’ to the list?”
Why choose? Add them both!
Ella laughed. “No, certainly not. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a three-sided coin, let alone seen one.
“How about a one-sided coin?”
No such thing.
Nope, those have either zero or two sides depending on how you define it.
Fine, you win this round.
If I did happen upon one, I would reckon I’d hide it somewhere so I could keep it.”
“So she’d keep the Thing™ in the place.”
Honestly, Igor, are you trying to win some kind of award for writing the vaguest fic ever? If so, you’re definitely going to earn the nomination.
“Oh?” Willow arched an eyebrow. “Hmm, I s’pose I hadn’t considered that.
Wait, so it never occurred to her that the owner wouldn’t keep the magical coin-key in the street? Seriously, how did Willow become THIS stupid?
Who would want a three-sided coin, though?
*Taco and Eliza raise their hands*
What purpose would it serve them?”
“She obviously hasn’t seen the size of Taco’s coin collection.”
“Do they even do anything?”
They’re pretty, and old, and pretty!
“I dunno,” Ella admitted. “Have you checked even your home?”
Another thing that will earn this fic a spanking: if Willow had the Thing™ in her own home the entire time.
“Yes,” Willow replied. “…although, I haven’t checked everywhere I frequent. Perhaps once I’m feeling a bit better I’ll check there too.”
Why would it be anywhere you are!? You said yourself you’ve never laid eyes on the coin! We better be headed for a scene break soon, the stupid is starting to make my brain hurt.
“That seems like it would be a good idea,” Ella agreed.
WHY!? Why should she search her normal hang-outs for a coin she’s never had!? Is this like a stupid version of the sorcerer’s stone? Does it only show up in house of the person looking for it?
“Considering all the other ideas I’ve had, Ella, this is quite high on the list,” Willow laughed.
“That, at least, is true. This idea certainly is better than randomly searching the street gutters.”
And, mercifully, the scene finally ends there. I think we’re also going to stop here. I wasn’t prepared for just how irritating it would be to read random scenes that delight in having no context, no description, and no relevance.
“A little on the short side this week. Maybe you should go get laid!”
“Well a good lie down would help you, I think. We even have a road down on sublevel 49.”
Oooooh. I think I’m fine, I think I just need another week to ease back into this shit show. I forgot how irritatingly pretentious and nondescript everything in this fic was.