(Note: for more BBxRae excitement, read the complete "Hunt the Hare Multiverse", coming here soon. And also currently available online at various locations, and in various versions.)
(tgnmemory version 2)
Location: in the multiverse,
in a contiguous array.
in The United Federation of Europa.
in London, England.
Play.
"Tartan Titan"
Wee Beastie looked in his wallet, and smiled apologetically at the shopgirl behind the counter. "Can I owe it to ya? Ah've only got a fiver."
The shopgirl looked unconvinced. "Well, I don't know, I'm not supposed to, really..."
Beastie grinned and made big goo-goo eyes. "Oh, c'mon Jenny. Ah've been in here nearly every day for two years. Y'know I'm good furrit."
Jenny smirked. "You're good for something, I'm sure. Oh all right, but just this once."
"Aw Jenny, yer a very angel!" Beastie said happily, as he stuffed the cabbages into his backpack, "My angel of cabbage and kiwifruit, and that's a fact."
"Don't forget your helmet." Jenny said.
Beastie grabbed his helmet from the counter, and waved to Jenny as he stepped out of the greengrocer's shop. He crossed the sidewalk and clambered onto his Ducati 1098 motorcycle, revved the engine and tore off down the street like a bat out of Glen Lachart.
Wee Beastie.
Garth Fraser-Lopez.
Teen Titan. Tartan Terror.
He slowed and stopped when he reached the corner, as a long column of trucks and armored vehicles trundled past. Norwegian soldiers, soon to be headed to the Californian Front, probably.
Poor devils, he thought.
Eventually, the armored column passed, and Beastie crossed the road, headed for Titans Hall. He pulled up to the heavy steel gates of the courtyard, and pressed a button on his commset. The massive gates swiveled open, and he drove through to the front of the building. Cy-Man was outside the entrance of the parking garage, loading rockets into the weapon-racks of the T-Rover.
"The bike's still runnin' rough and sluggish," said Beastie as he pulled up alongside the Rover, "couldja have a look at it sometime, Cy?"
"It'll be more crap built up in the fuel line, I 'spect," said Cy, "it's the replacement synthetic fuel we've been getting lately, what with the shortages."
Beastie looked at his bike and shook his head. "Well, we'll hafta get this damn fuel thing sorted, somehow. Right now she's okay for tooling around town, but it'd be nae much good in an emergency."
Cy shrugged. "We might be able to refine and filter it a bit, I s'pose."
Beastie nodded, and walked toward the front door of Titans Hall.
"Oh, and we've got some Titan applicants, waiting in the office for interviews." Cy said.
"Oh, idyllic." Beastie muttered to himself. He gritted his teeth. These interviews tended to be ultimately embarassing for all concerned. But this was his week to do them, damn.
Beastie walked through the front door, and down the corridor to the main office. Two tiny identical young boys were standing in front of the desk. They both had short ash-blonde hair, navy blue jumpsuits, and eerie smiles. Beastie suppressed a shudder, sat down at the desk and opened the file-folder at the top of the waiting stack.
"Good morning, young sirs," said Beastie, as he glanced through the file, "it says here that you two are known as Positiv und Negativ..."
"Ja, Positiv und Negativ!" the twins said simultaneously.
"... and that you can run very fast, when you, um, hold hands..."
Beastie closed his eyes, and felt the beginnings of a migraine. They can run very fast, when they hold hands. That was without a doubt the daftest thing he had ever heard in his whole entire life.
Beastie rubbed his temples, leaned back in his armchair, and opened his eyes. He sighed. "Look, lads. I'm, I'm not gonna lie t'ya. Running fast while ye hold hands, it's not what ya'd call much of a super-power. It's nae even what ya could call much of a life. Think about it, d'ya really want to go around everywhere, holding hands? It might be best just tae fergit the whole thing."
Positiv und Negativ continued to smile blandly. Oh hell.
"Um, d'ya even understand English?" Beastie asked, without much hope.
"Englische, we like goot." said Positiv.
"Goot morning, Englander." said Negativ.
Beastie felt his patience rapidly wearing very thin. He stood up, and walked around to the front of the desk.
"Englander, Englander?" snapped Beastie, "Behold the man that stands before ya both. Notice the clan crest, the sporran, the tartan - the great bloody kilt. Does any fraction or iota of any of all this in any way say Englander to ya?"
Positiv und Negativ looked puzzled.
"Well, d'ya know what's north of England?" Beastie demanded.
"Nort of England?" said Positiv.
"Ist... Norvay?" said Negativ.
"Norway?" Beastie repeated increduously. Then he walked over and took Positiv und Negativ by the shoulders, not very gently.
"Ah've got a secret mission for ya, my wee Bavarian bookends," he said, "I want ye tae hold hands, and run north. Run for Hadrian's Wall, run for Thurso, and Scrabster. In fact, run til ya see a trawler with the word Orkney on its backside. Run, make haste. Raus, mach schnell."
Beastie walked the twins over to the outer office door, opened it and shoved them out into the courtyard. He closed the door, and walked back behind the desk. He sat down, and pressed the intercom button.
"Next." he said wearily.
The waiting room door opened, and a gorgeous little blonde girl walked into the office. She was wearing stylish hiking gear, she had the most beautiful blue eyes, and she was smiling at him, smiling brilliantly. Aww, the nice, the nicey-nice, thought Beastie. His migraine evaporated. Better smile back, he thought. Then he realized that he already was.
Ahem. Composure, laddie.
"And a very good morning to you, Miss," said Beastie, as he looked through the next file, "and your name is... Tara de Valera. My, what a lovely, lovely name. And, it rhymes."
"Thank you, I like my name very much as well," said Tara, "and the rhyming of it has been pointed out to me, on more than one occasion."
Her creamy-smooth Dublin accent seemed to be gently carressing his ears, Beastie wondered if he was blushing, and he wondered if she could recognize the blushing of his green complexion, and he really wondered a great many things all at once.
"And, um, it says that you can move rocks, just by looking at them." Beastie said.
Tara smiled and nodded. "Yes, that I can."
"What kinds of rocks?" asked Beastie.
"All kinds," said Tara, "I can make grains of sand dance, I can vitrify granite boulders, I even had some fun spinning the pyramids at Giza, when no one was looking."
"The pyramids? Naw, ya cannae expect me to believe that." said Beastie.
But he believed her.
Tara grinned. "That clasp on your jacket, an amethyst is it?" she said, "Over here, now."
Beastie nearly gasped as the amethyst pin on his collar slowly levitated and floated through the air to Tara's outstretched hand.
"Nicely faceted, lovely craftsmanship," Tara said, as she examined the clasp, "family heirloom?"
Beastie nodded.
"Then I expect you'll be wanting it back, then." Tara said, and the clasp flew out of her hand with arrow-speed and back into Beastie's collar, exactly where it had been before.
"Y'know, Tara, if I can call ya Tara, well I mean, of course I can, what with it being yer name an all, I mean," said Beastie, who realized he was blithering but couldn't really help it, "what I mean to say is, um, this is really quite the thing you can do, what with the rocks, and the minerals. And you know, we don't really have to talk in here, in this daft little closet. I mean, the lights in here are so glary, because, um, they glare. Um, would ya like tae continue our conversation in the drawing room? Oh, it's a much nicer room. Bigger, too. More chairs. And we could have some coffee, or tea. I suppose we could even draw, if we were so inclined. What with it being a drawing room, if ya follow me."
Tara gave him an amused smile, and nodded. "Oh, I think I follow you, Mister Garth Fraser-Lopez. And it's a funny thing, this sudden strong desire for coffee and tea and drawing I have."
"Oh please, just call me Garth," Beastie said, "most people, well most people just call me Beastie, but that's no reason for, um, I'm blethering again, aren't I?"
Tara laughed. "That you are, but charmingly."
Beastie grinned. He liked this girl, well of course he did.
He stood up and opened the door for her. "It's just down the corridor, on the left," he said, "we have coffee, and tea, and lots of wee marble statues that you can make dance around, if ye happen to be so inclined."
Tara and Beastie walked down the corridor and into the drawing room.
"Oh, hey." said Tara, as she looked around, admiring the various artifacts and antiquities.
"Yes, this is a small part of Robbie's collection," Beastie said, "he's a great one for the Greco and the Roman memorabilia. I think that he thinks that he's the reincarnation of Julius or Alexander, or Achilles or Hector or Ajax or Comet, or Donner or Blitzkrieg or one of those. Um, when you meet him, please don't mention that I think that he thinks that, by the way."
Tara stared at him, and smiled. She wasn't sure whether he was doing it on purpose, or whether he really was just an adorable little clown. She supposed it didn't matter.
"Um, Donner, and Blitzkrieg?" she said.
"Oh aye, I guess those would be reindeer, not Romans." he said.
"One's a reindeer, the other, not really." she said.
"Oh." he said.
"Aye." she said.
She was just standing there, with her hands on her waist, staring at him, with that amused smile on her face. Actually, she was standing... kinda close, if you thought about it. Beastie thought about it. He knew he was blushing now. His face felt like it was on fire, he knew he should say something. Preferably something that did not involve blithering. Or Romans, or reindeer.
Ravers walked into the drawing room.
"Beastie, there you are, I've been looking everywhere for you," she said, "and, hello, Little Blonde Standing Next To Beastie. I'm Raven, and you don't know me. I just have to borrow him for a moment, but I'll bring him right back, safe and sound, so you can get back to doing... whatever it is that you do, with small green men."
Beastie scowled. "Tara, meet my friend, Ravers. She only seems evil, once ya get tae know her, you realize that she's the devil bloody incarnate."
Tara shrugged and nodded at Ravers. Ravers shrugged and nodded at Tara.
Ravers took Beastie by the hand, and started tugging him towards the door. Beastie resisted, and pulled back. "Fine, be like that." she said. She enveloped him in her shadow, and they both dematerialized.
They rematerialized in the Tower library.
"What the hell did ya do that for?" Beastie said angrily.
"I just need you for a minute," said Ravers, "after that, you can get right back to the greening of our island, I promise."
"I was interviewing a prospective Titan!" shouted Beastie.
Ravers sneered. "Pfft. I know exactly what you were planning on prospecting, Greenie. Standing there, with that transfixed look in your eyes. Another thirty seconds, and you would've been unbuttoning her blouse while humming The Road To The Isles."
"Ah wouldnae, and it's none of yer damn business anyway, Raven." said Beastie.
"Garth, I'm sorry." said Ravers.
"Ye daimonic grey gargoyle, dragging me around like a wee dug," Beastie said, "Ah dinnae hafta stand for that. And... didja just say you were sorry?"
"I am sorry, Garth. Very sorry. But I need your help, it's urgent." Ravers said.
"Well, that's different," said Beastie, "if ya need my help, ask away. What is it? Spit it out, already."
"I need to borrow your bike." said Ravers.
"My bike? Why would you need my bike, when ye can fly, or zip-zap yersel' around?" Beastie said.
"It would take too long to explain." said Ravers.
"Try me." said Beastie.
Ravers sighed. "Yesterday, I met a Raven from America."
Beastie scoffed. "There is no America anymore, I thought you woulda heard that by now. Some funny old one-eyed geezer in a black and tan mask blew it halfway to hell. Sounding familiar? Glistening craters where Boston, New York and Chicago used to be? Armies of his re-animatied biomechanical corpse zombies slithering all over the place?"
"The Raven I met was from another dimension," said Ravers, "a dimension where the Marquis never destroyed America, a dimension where there are American versions of you and me, and just about everybody we know."
"An American... me?" Beastie said in disbelief.
"Yes, an American you, an American me, and Cy-Man, and Starry, and Robbo, Le Gars des Mers, Hypergirl, just about everybody, as near as I can tell." said Ravers.
"Well, go on." said Beastie, as he began to wonder about all this.
"First I met one American Raven," Ravers said, "and she told me how I could meet another. And that Raven told me how I could meet a Super Raven. And then I met... tens of thousands of Ravens."
"I see," said Beastie, although of course he didn't see at all, "and, what's a Super-Raven, then?"
"She is glorious, majestic, you can't imagine," said Ravers, "She is like me, only from a much higher plane of existence. We call her Rae, or Sister Rae. I don't know if I can describe it, imagine meeting yourself, only it's the self you always knew you should be. It's like seeing yourself, for they first time. I meditated with her, we all did."
"And, her Beastie, is like a Super-Beastie, then?" Beastie asked.
"Um, no. He's pretty much the standard model, as near as I can tell." Ravers said.
"Oh. Well then." Beastie said disappointedly.
"But, Garth, it's like this," Ravers said, "the Super-Raven, Rae, she knows things I couldn't even begin to imagine. She can help us win the war. In her reality, the Marquis is dead, or whereabouts unknown. She could tell me how to stop all this. That's why I need your bike."
"Okay, now y'see that's the part I'm still not getting." said Beastie.
"I've been transdimensional for nearly twenty hours," Ravers explained, "and my head's full of quantum protocol computations, that the new Raven Nation needs to maintain our network. There was no way to write it all down, I had to memorize it. And our computer won't hold it all, I need to get to the university to work it out on one of theirs. If I go to sleep, I'll forget most of it. But my psychic tension is nearly exhausted, I can't fly, and I can barely zip-zap."
"Well, why dintya just say so in the first place?" Beastie said, as he handed her the keys to his Ducati.
"Thanks, Garth. I know I can always rely on you." Ravers said, and she hugged him, and kept hugging him.
Aiee, this is turning out to be quite a morning, thought Beastie. Damn to hell whoever it was that invented the nylon ballet leotard, the things should be banned, banned. Ravers continued to hold him close.
"Once the war is over, maybe things could get back to the way they used to be," Ravers whispered, "when it was just the two of us, before we met the others, just the Two Titans, you remember."
Beastie nodded. "I remember, Ravey. We were operating out of that crummy little flat above a laundrette in Ladbroke Grove, and we solved more crossword puzzles than crimes. But, they were some very happy times."
Ravers finally stopped hugging him, and tapped him gently on the nose.
"Well, I better get going," she said, "and you may as well get back to your little highland fling." She gave him a wink and a wicked leer.
Beastie shook his head disapprovingly. "Tha's nae very nice, Ravey. She seems like a very fine young girl."
"Hmm, if you say so." said Ravers, as she walked out of the library door and towards the front hall.
"Well, she does seem nice." Beastie said to himself.
Then he said, "What the hell am I standing around here for?" and he scampered off towards the drawing room.
Pause. Stop.
(This version of "Tartan Titan" was originally prepared for Tgnmemory Teen Titans Forum.)