"Men, you are about to embark on a great crusade to stamp out runaway decency in the West. Now you men will only be risking your lives, whilst I will be risking an almost certain Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actor."
- Hedley Lamarr
A symphony of ominous thunderclouds rolled over the desolate and impregnable mountain stronghold of Castle Harmonica. Spires gave the dark structure the appearance of a massive opera theatre carved into the unforgiving crags. Its empty halls echoed with endless organ music played by unseen phantoms.
Baron Cacophen gently pressed his ear to a round and heavy bulge draped in glossy black fabric. His fingertips traced down the unmistakable protrusion, gliding like swans over water and smoothing out the ripples in the fabric. A stylish gold belt sat just below where the swelling ended, loosely fastened so it didn't restrain or hide the extra weight.
The Baron was a sly and scheming man dressed in an extravagant red conductor's suit lined with brass buttons. The bulbous crescendo in front of him was the subject of all his affections, a muse inspiring him with soft obsidian creases and smooth rotund curves. Everything he said and did was conveyed with a dark flamboyance that made him risk breaking into a Tim Curry-inspired musical number at any moment.
Luka was on Mute. Her arms were tied in chandelier chains over her head, drawing her out like a lithe (but stout-bellied) guitar string. The toes of her boots dangled limply off the ground. She was motionless and peaceful, resting with her eyes closed and her head hanging like Sleeping Beauty. The original draft of Sleeping Beauty where the princess's name was Talia and there was that whole creepy relationship conundrum.
She was nothing more and nothing less than a vessel that provided safety, comfort, and nourishment for her quickening daughter. She was a pink-haired instrument for producing the sonnets of annihilation. Her slumber made her easy to manage and helped her body conserve its energy for its one and only purpose. The laser-grafted markings on her bare left shoulder branded her as Number 03, but she was number one in the Baron's machinations. The towering organ pipes behind her were filled with teeming melodies played in a gloomy minor key. Her pipes were filled with teeming life. The debut record was almost ready to be released.
Baron Cacophen closed his eyes with his ear still pressed to the captive Vocaloid's motherly prominence. He swooned with a sense of triumph, whispering to the plump swelling.
"You're stirring so strongly today, my sweet Mordrigal. Ah, soon you'll be out of that lovely changing room and you'll take center stage. I can hear your perfect soprano octaves tickling my eardrums already. You're going to fine tune all of your pesky aunts and uncles... out of existence."
The organ music swelled to a bombastic volume while Luka remained motionless and swollen like a ripened pear. The only thing louder was the Baron's ghastly maniacal laughter.
Author's note: You have no idea how hard it was to find a female sounding musical term that could be combined with the name "Mordred." At first I was just going to call her Mirai.
Author's note 2: I wonder if Luka's baby is going to be like that proto-Facehugger from Prometheus so it keeps up with the Octo-Luka motif.
Author's note 3: I listened a Luka version of Die Another Day once. I actually don't think Die Another Day is that bad of a James Bond theme as long as you ignore the fact it's supposed to be a James Bond theme, but wow that Luka version was something else. I think it might be one of the underlying things that broke me years ago and convinced me to start writing weird stuff like this.