Hello everybody! Did you miss me? So sorry for the wait, but I've been going through a lot of stuff lately and it killed my creativity for a while. Then went I finally got my mojo back I had trouble deciding how to begin Arc 5. Long story short, I had to start over twice because my first two attempts weren't good enough and I know you all deserve better. So any way, as usual, Legend of Korra is owned by Nickelodeon and the Avengers and all its characters are owned by Marvel. So without any further delay, it gives me great pride to begin the first chapter of Arc 5!
Chapter 20: Doomsday.
Bong…
The loud, melodious sound of a church bell roused the young Avatar from her deep slumber.
"Uh… what a night." She groaned as she sat up and rubbed her eyes.
Korra's back was a wreck; she felt like she'd slept of a pile of rocks. After fleeing the Avengers Mansion, she and Tarrlok headed straight for LaGuardia Airport; a private jet was waiting for them. The flight was about seven hours, during which Korra got absolutely no sleep. Not only were the seats horribly uncomfortable, but the young Avatar's mind was plagued with feelings of unbelievable guilt. She'd stolen from the Avengers; her friends. They took her into their home and made her feel like family, and she repaid them by knocking two of them out. Dear God… the way Vision looked at her. Korra didn't know if she would ever be able to forgive herself. But there was no turning back now. She just hoped this Doom guy was as smart as Tarrlok said he was.
Anyway, after the plane landed at the Doomsport Airport, Tarrlok sent for a cab to take them to his house in Old Doomstadt. When they arrived it was roughly four-thirty in the morning, so all she wanted to do was sleep; guilt or no guilt. The second she walked through the door, she headed strait for the closest thing with cushions, which just happened to be his living room sofa. Tarrlok had 'generously' offered to share his bed with her, but she 'respectfully' told him to drop dead. So she just plopped down on the couch and went out like a light.
BIG MISTAKE!
'Whoever sold Tarrlok this couch should be dragged out into the street and shot!' She thought bitterly as she attempted to stand up. Unfortunately this proved to be difficult, as the slightest motion sent waves of unbelievable pain down her spine. So for the time being, she was stuck on that god awful, textile-upholstered nightmare.
"Fan-freaking-tastic!"
"Rough night huh?" asked a certain water tribe cyborg from behind the couch; a hint of amusement in his voice.
"This couch is evil. It should be burned at the stake." Korra answered grumpily, not even bothering to turn around.
"As I recall, you were the one who refused my generous offer."
"I'd rather sleep on a bed of spikes than shack up with you." replied the young Avatar, finally able to get to her feet without too much discomfort.
"That's not remotely what I had in mind and you know it!" said Tarrlok, clearly insulted by her insinuation. "Above all else, I am a gentleman."
"Whatever Frankenstein…" Korra said with a yawn. "Is breakfast ready?" she asked, accompanied by the all too familiar sound of an empty stomach.
This earned a slight chuckle from the former waterbender. "Breakfast was ready hours ago; it's one-thirty in the afternoon."
"What? Why didn't you wake me?" she asked furiously; her stomach seemed to growl in agreement.
"I tried, but you kept swatting at me. You're a very stubborn sleeper." Said the former councilman turned cyborg, a pleasant smile etched across his face. "Besides, you need to get dressed. We can get you something to eat at the festival."
"Festival?" she asked, completely perplexed. It was only then that she noticed his current state of dress; a clean white collared shirt with a red tie, both mostly covered by a new tweed jacket, accompanied by a freshly pressed pair of light brown pants, and brand new pair of bark brown shoes. The young Avatar had to admit, he did look rather sharp, but the question still remained. What was the occasion?
"What festival?" she asked, earning a lighthearted chuckle from her former adversary.
"Dear child, don't you know? Today is Doomsday."
XXX
Singer and tailor am I-
Doubled the joys that I know-
Proud of my lilt to the sky,
Proud of the house that I sew-
Over and under, so weave I my music-so weave I the house that I
sew.
Sing to your fledglings again,
Mother, oh lift up your head!
Evil that plagued us is slain,
Death in the garden lies dead.
Terror that hid in the roses is impotent-flung on the dung-hill
and dead!
Who has delivered us, who?
Tell me his nest and his name.
Rikki, the valiant, the true,
Tikki, with eyeballs of flame,
Rikk-tikki-tikki, the ivory-fanged, the hunter with eyeballs of
flame!
Give him the Thanks of the Birds,
Bowing with tail feathers spread!
Praise him with nightingale words-
Nay, I will praise him instead.
Hear! I will sing you the praise of the bottle-tailed Rikki, with
eyeballs of red!
Knock-Knock!
The loud rap upon his chamber door stirred him from his reading. With a slightly irritated sigh he closed his book, stood up from his desk chair, and answered.
"You may enter." He said with a thick eastern European accent.
The door opened and a thin, gray-haired man with a handlebar moustache walked. It was the head of the castle staff, Otto von Pratt.
"Your Magnificence." The old man said respectfully. "Although you are no doubt working on some sort of brilliant project to ensure the stability of our great nation for generations to come, I fear I must inform you that…"
"Your obsequiousness repulses me Otto." Doom interrupted him flatly. "Either say what you mean or get out."
"Yes Master, please forgive me." The old man bowed in shame.
"All is forgiven. Now what did you what to tell me?"
"My Lord, it is twenty minutes to three. It is almost time for you to give your speech."
"Of course." Doom said with a slight chuckle. "Mustn't keep my people waiting."
Otto bowed to his master and turned to leave.
"Wait…" said Lord Doom. Though his voice carried no malice, Otto couldn't help but feel a bit nervous.
"What is it my Lord?" He said as he calmly turned around to face his master.
"I understand that you are a grandfather now, correct?"
"Yes sir, my son Wilhelm and his wife just had a son of their own not a week ago."
"I see… well then, you should be very proud."
"I am sir."
"What is the child's name?" asked Doom as he walked toward the door.
"Augustus, Master."
Doom chuckled again as he handed Otto the book that had been on his desk. "Well then, give this to little Augustus with my blessing. You can read it to him when he is a little older."
The old man accepted the book happily. In all honesty he was a little overwhelmed by the gift. He knew his master was well known for his generosity, but still.
"Thank you my Lord. I don't know what to say."
"Think nothing of it. It is Doomsday after all." He replied as he started down the castle hall. "Besides… I'm expecting a new book to arrive this afternoon."
Were it not for the mask obstructing his face, Otto would have seen his master bear a toothy grin.
XXX
Since her banishment, Korra had heard many stores about the various 'super villains' that plague this strange world; the malevolent Baron Mordo, the terrible Tinkerer, and even the unadulterated evil that is the Red Skull. But no name sent more shivers down a man's spine than that of the nefarious Dr. Doom.
Many times the Avengers had told her of his unquenchable lust for power and control. They told her of all the ingenious plots, schemes, and stratagems this vile fiend had concocted over the years in his quest for world domination. Though most claimed even that wouldn't be enough for him. Iron-Man himself once said that nothing short of godhood would satisfy his insatiable hunger. So when Tarrlok told her that they were going to Doom's home country, she was more than a little worried. She had braced herself for whatever horrors she might face in this dark, tyrannical government.
However… no amount of mental preparation could've prepared her for this!
The quaint little town of Old Doomstadt was alive with the sounds of joyous laughter and merrymaking. On every street corner a band was playing loud, uplifting music. In every hall and pub there was dancing and drinking. And every which way little children were running around and playing silly games. In short, it was nothing at all like she expected it to be.
'This is the home town of an evil mastermind?' Korra thought to herself as she and Tarrlok, currently in the guise of his alter ego Kristoff Vernard, walked along the crowded streets of the beautiful Bavarian-like burg.
The young Avatar was sporting a beautiful light-blue dress with matching shoes that her 'host' was kind enough to purchase for her earlier that morning while she was asleep. She hadn't been too thrilled when her former enemy had told she would have to wear such a girly getup, nor was she happy about having to wear makeup, but giving the circumstances she really didn't have any room to complain. After all, this man was going to help her get back home, so one afternoon of looking like porcelain doll was a small price to pay. At least he had been kind enough to let her keep her ponytail, which was only fair considering he got to keep his when he became a Latverian citizen.
All in all, Doomstadt seemed like just a normal little town, a drastic contrast to its more modern counterpart to the south. So despite its ruler's bad reputation, Latveria didn't seem all that bad; With the exception of three things that made her feel really uneasy.
The first were the dozens, if not hundreds, of six foot tall grey and green automatons that seemed to be everywhere. Their outward appearance greatly resembled that of Tony's Iron Man armor, save for the different color scheme. They also seemed a little bulkier than Tony's armor, though this was probably meant more for intimidation than a reflection of their strength. The worst part was their faces; those creepy, emotionless faces with glowing eyes that scanned over the crowds over and over again. It was positively unnerving. Strangely enough, no one else seemed to pay them any mind. So Korra guessed that they must be common.
The second thing that creeped her out were all the posters that were plastered all over the place; every wall had at least one. They were all dark green with an image of a creepy robot face at the top, followed by a long block of text written in black. Upon closer inspection, Korra realized that each poster spelled out a different set of laws. One in particular caught her attention.
Citizens of Latveria!
On this glorious Doomsday we would like to remind you all that the drinking of alcohol is a privilege granted to you by our Lord and Master and not a right. Therefore, Lord Doom wishes to remind everyone of the rules regarding this subject.
1. The consumption of alcohol is to be restricted to licensed and bonded taverns or beer halls. Drinking outdoors or within a non-licensed and bonded establishment is strictly prohibited.
2. No establishment can sell, produce, or even possess alcoholic beverages of any kind without proper certification. The illegal selling or production of alcohol is considered a capital offence.
3. No citizen under the legal age of eighteen will be permitted to consume any amount of alcohol under any circumstances. There are no exceptions.
4. Destruction of public or private property caused by the excessive consumption of alcohol is inexcusable. If you find yourself incapable of returning home under your own power because of excessive alcohol consumption, please have an emergency contact person pick you up or ask one of your friendly neighborhood Doombots to escort you to your home.
Failure to comply with any of these rules will result in either a hefty fine or twelve to eighteen months in the Doomton stockade depending of the severity of your offense.
Thank you for your time and have a nice day.
Happy Doomsday!
They were like a strange blend of advice and threats; Korra found them extremely unsettling, but again no else seemed to notice them.
Last, and worst of all, was the way people kept staring at her and whispering. She first noticed it when they stopped by a small café to get a quick bite to eat. Korra didn't think anything of it at the time, but the more they walked around the more people whispered. And the more people whispered, the more uncomfortable the young Avatar felt.
"Tarr…uh…I mean, Kristoff." said Korra in a hushed voice as she gently tugged on his sleeve. "Everyone's staring at me. Can we please go back to your place?"
"Now, now, my pet." replied the cyborg in a sympathetic tone. "Everything's going to be alright. The people just aren't used to seeing strangers." He let out a light chuckle. "They were the same way with me when I first came here." He put his hand on her shoulder and smiled reassuringly. "I promise nothing bad will happen. You're safer here than you ever were at that mansion."
As much as Korra hated being referred to as 'my pet', Tarrlok's words did make her feel a little better.
'He's right. Nothing bad's gonna happen'
HALT!
A loud mechanical voice said from behind, making everyone on the street stop in their tracks. The two turned around slowly and much to Korra's anxiety, standing right behind them was one of creepy-faced robots that had been watching over everyone. The young Avatar was speechless with fear, but luckily Tarrlok had the situation under control.
"What seems to be the problem?" Tarrlok asked respectfully, though the Doombot just ignored him. Instead it focused its gaze on Korra, and slowly offered her its hand.
LADY KORRA, PLEASE ALLOW ME TO ESCORT YOU TO THE TOWN SQUARE; LORD DOOM WISHES FOR YOU TO JOIN HIM ON STAGE FOR THE SERIMONY.
Korra was absolutely speechless. She looked to Tarrlok for answers, but he just nodded and motioned for her to accept. Not seeing any other option, she took a deep breath to calm herself down and took the robot's hand.
"Lead the way."
XXX
It was exactly two minutes to three, and the town square was filled to capacity. From all across Latveria people gathered, men and women, young and old, just for the chance to see that wonderful man; the man who on this day not ten years ago freed them all from the abusive rule of the cruel King Vladimir, the man who took a poor starving joke of a nation and turned it into a prosperous potential world superpower, the man they had come to honor today. I am of course speaking of that glorious Master of Science and Sorcery; the one, the only, Doctor Victor von Doom.
It was no secret that the people of Latveria were fanatically devoted to their leader, but one could hardly blame them. Before he came to power, Lateria was nothing; just one of those tiny impoverished nations that everyone else felt sorry for but never did anything about. For centuries this land was subject to the whims of a long line of despots who would sooner cut off their own limbs than give a starving man a crust of bread. The people felt weak and worthless; many spend their days praying for death. But, on that first glorious Doomsday, everything changed.
Like angels sent down from Heaven, Lord Doom and his mechanical marvels came down from the sky and rained their righteous fury upon those who had oppressed this great land. Then with a soft voice and a steady hand he rallied the people; igniting a long dormant sense of pride and self-worth. He promised, that with their help, he would transform this forsaken land into a paradise, and in less than five months he made good on his word. By working together they had created a new nation; a nation free of hunger, poverty, and strive. A nation where their children could grow up happy and healthy. A nation they could be proud of.
And they owed it all to him.
So is it any wonder why so many had gathered in one place to show their appreciation?
Doom had every right to be proud, but he never let himself grow too proud. He knew that he would not live forever and that once he died other nations would swarm in and take Latveria's resources for themselves; leaving nothing for his people. He often laid awake at night and worried what his people would do without him.
'But once I control the Nexus, I need never worry again.' Doom thought to himself as he looked out into the crowd from his throne atop the stage. 'Soon Latveria will at the center of the Multiverse itself, and no one will be able to threaten her ever again.' He turned his head to look at the dark-skinned, blue-eyed young woman seated in the throne beside him. 'And I own it all to you my dear.'
It was at that moment that the band stopped playing the nation anthem.
It was time for Doom to deliver his annual speech.
He stood up from his throne at the center stage and walked toward the downstage; nearest the audience. Once he had reached the perfect position he began to speak.
"My friends," his deep, accented voice echoed throughout the square; as if amplified by some unseen microphone. "This has indeed been yet another prosperous year for our great nation. And although you have all come here to honor me, I feel it would be a great insult if I did not honor you in turn. So to all of you standing before me and to all those watching at home, I say thank you. For without each and every one of you, none of this prosperity would be possible."
The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers and applause, but Doom quickly raised his hand and all fell silent again.
"Yes, yes, thank you, but I am not finished yet." He said politely before he continued. "Now then, I suppose you are all curious as to the identity of the beautiful young creature sitting behind me." He gestured toward the young Avatar and suddenly all eyes were on her. "Won't you please join me my dear?"
Korra knew it wasn't a request. So she took a deep breath before she stood up and did as he instructed. Once she was beside him, Doom continued.
"I know what some of you must be thinking, but it pains me to say that this rare jewel is not to be my bride." Korra's face flushed at the idea, but Doom didn't seem to notice. "I realize this must disappoint you all, but I assure you, her role in today's events is much grander."
Doom paused for a brief moment; allowing it all to sink in.
"The story I am about to tell you all may seem unbelievable, but I give you my word it is true." He could tell by the looks on their faces that their excitement was beginning to build. 'Perfect…' "Billions of light-years from our humble little Earth, there exists a world which bears no name, but holds power beyond your wildest imagination. For on this world, there exists a race of beings known as Benders."
Doom could sense the young Avatar's discomfort at his description. And while he would later admit that 'race' may not have been the most accurate word to describe Benders, it was the simplest way to explain them to his people without going into great detail. He would make it up to her later.
"And rightfully so, for you see… these Benders have the ability to manipulate the elements themselves; but by far the most powerful Bender of them all is a being known as the Avatar."
He looked toward the young woman beside him and mentally chuckled at how red her face had grown. 'How adorable…'
"At this time, I'm sure you must all be wondering what such a powerful being could possibly look like. Well… wonder no longer."
Korra didn't like where this was going.
"For the Avatar is standing right here, beside me." He gestured toward her, somewhat dramatically.
In an instant the crowd transformed into a vast ocean of gasps and whispers; no one could believe what they had just heard, especially Korra.
'What the hell is he doing?' she thought to herself frantically. Tony had told her that the people of Earth weren't very accepting of people from other planets, which is why he'd starting the rumor that she was a mutant. 'Is this guy trying to get me killed?'
A stern look from Doom and the crowd grew silent again.
"Yes my friends, you heard me correctly. This fair maiden has come to us from across the cosmos, and… like myself… she used her great power to protect her home from all who would threaten it."
Then tension in the crowd almost instantly faded away. Apparently being compared to Dr. Doom was a good thing in Latveria. Who knew?
"Unfortunately, after an ordeal too violent for the ears of our younger citizens, this noble protector was banished from her home and sent to our quaint little globe; separated from the ones she loves."
Doom's words appeared to be moving his people. He seemed to be trying to get them on her side, but what Korra couldn't figure out is why.
"Now… being the compassionate ruler you all know me to be, I reached out to this poor soul and upon learning of her blight I offered her my assistance."
Korra was beginning to understand why Tarrlok liked this guy so much; they're practically soul mates.
"I have already devised a way for Avatar Korra to return home, but the road is long and dangerous, so I must escort her there myself. Now... I am not quite sure how long the journey will take; I may be gone for weeks or even months. Rest assured I shall return, but not until this poor lost girl is returned home safely."
The crowd once again erupted with applause. All throughout the square people were singing praises of their master's selflessness, but the young Avatar didn't hear a word of any of it.
A single thought went through her mind that drowned out everything else.
'What the hell have I gotten myself into now?'
End Notes: The poem Doom is reading near the beginning is called Darzee's Chant and it is a part of The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling. Why does this matter? Well… let's just say that this poem and the story it relates to explain how I think Doom perceives himself. Google the poem and see what I mean. If you do and you still don't get it don't worry, I'll explain it all later on in the Arc. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed my latest chapter. Please leave a review before you leave and go to my profile to take part in my new pole; which will remain open until the end of this Arc.
Happy Halloween!