Part 22 ^_^
"...i'm doomed..."
"What was that?"
"Nothing," Kitty lied. She should have taken a cue from Hubert's dress
code - for want of a better word. Now she felt like a sore thumb.
The population of the party - for want of a better word - was mostly
male. The few females sharing the room were dressed similarly to the
guys. Jeans and a T-shirt proclaiming their loyalty to something that
belonged, in Kitty's humble opinion, to what she referred to as the
'geek channels'.
Food was buffet-style buckets of nibbles and a contributions jar with
the word 'pizza fund' scrawled on a piece of paper taped to its side.
Hubert trawled his pockets for money and scattered the resultant coinage
and single note into the pizza fund.
Kitty, blushing, removed a couple of twenties from her clutch-purse
and stuffed them into the jar. They looked out of place amongst the
fives and ones. She quickly covered by grabbing some Cheez Doodles(tm)
and snacking on them.
Her nice blue dress belonged in a nice restaurant. *NOT* in Geekland.
An androgynous, lanky stringbean emerged from the kitchen with a bowl
of steaming cocktail franks and noticed the jar. "Hubie, you *dog*,"
cooed the stringbean. "Trust you to find a date who's a big spender."
The tall creature with the Farscape T-shirt dug into a pants pocket and
produced fifteen and change. "Thanks, kiddo. I was starting to feel
freaky."
"Well, if you did, Sara; you're right at home."
That was a *Sara*? Didn't she know what padded bras were for?
"Hey folks!" A pudgy, asthmatic doughball thundered down from the
ground level. "Ready for a good time?"
"Aye, Captain!" Cheered the room.
"We have an impressive collection of -ahem- 'sandwiches' to appreciate
tonight..."
Whistles and hoots.
"As well as a new set of music videos, both downloaded and original,
which will be playing when the pizzas get here."
Laughter.
Hubert guided her to the couch, which was also inhabited by someone
with far too many front teeth and half the Golden Gate bridge in their
headgear.
Kitty kept Hubert between herself and Headgear.
The lights went down, and the screen lit up.
_Oh, God, I'm like, totally *DOOMED*..._
"Hello Professor," said Evan. Amanda was trailing after him.
Charles raised an eyebrow. "I take it tonight's 'date' was a little -
er..."
"Dismal?" Amanda supplied. She'd been crying. "Got it in one. Kurt
wrote me a goodbye."
"A really *worrying* goodbye," said Evan. "Sounds like he's looking at
tall buildings."
"This Jimaine is nothing but bad news," Amanda supplied. "She's
killing him."
"I doubt if I'd go *that* far," said Charles. "Certainly, Kurt's been
a little *depressed*, but--"
"Professor..." Scott staggered into the room, fighting with his left
hand. "Make it *stop*... It's trying to call some really expensive
florists."
Amanda made a face. "Something truly *weird* is going on, here."
Charles winced. He'd really hoped to keep this under wraps. "I'm
afraid Scott's run afoul of a sorcerous love spell. I've been trying to
find a cure, but I'm not a very magical person."
"Sorcery," Amanda echoed. "My grandaddy had a *lot* of weird stories,"
she said. "I didn't believe half of them, but I'm starting to think they
weren't *all* nonsense. He told me that part of the war effort involved
putting a hex on Hitler. They got hold of all the magical types they
could find, a sorceror, a wizard, a wiccan and a mystic; and tried to
get them to work together to hex the guy. It didn't work. And didn't
work 'cause none of the magics were compatible. Just about anyone on the
planet can work mysticism, but you can't fight sorcery with it."
"Damn..." Charles slumped. "Then there's no hope."
"Not really, sir," said Amanda. "You *can* foul it up. If I were to
cast the same spell on Scott, but a *mystic* spell, both spells would
kind of implode."
"How kind of is kind of?" Scott asked.
"Well... for a while, the original spell will be kind of amplified.
You'll have no control over yourself whatsoever."
Scott whimpered.
Charles patted his hand. "I'll come up with a viable excuse for the
school."
"I can't go to school like *this*!" Scott objected. "I can't go as
some bibbling, brainwashed idiot, either."
"You might not have a choice," said Charles. "The spell will have
ultimate control over you."
"Aw maaannnn..."
"Thing is," said Amanda. "It's going to control you eventually. Right
now you've got a choice. Get it over with fast - or slow."
"I'm doomed," Scott groaned.
"Isn't this nice?"
"*You* might be happy in this - pit... but *I* deserve better
surroundings."
"Aw, come on," he gestured at the line dancing. "Enjoy the moment.
This is the American equivalent of patterschoen."
"It is?"
"Look at their faces. Can't you see they hate it?"
Jimaine looked. "Isn't that our waitress?"
"Ja, I was wondering about that..."
"No *wonder* the service sucks," she said.
"Hey, it's supposed to be romantic, you know? Give us more time to
whisper sweet nothings to each other. Isn't that what you wanted?"
Jimaine examined his face. He was still rigidly inscrutable, not
giving a clue away to any observer, casual or otherwise. She found
herself wishing to be able to see his tail, since its constant twitching
often gave away more about his emotions than he did.
However, technology was immune to sorcery, and she had to settle for
watching the holographic illusion for subtle hints about his emotions.
Was her spell working? There seemed to be moments when it was having
an effect on him, and others when he was resisting. Yet he was flipping
between the two extremes instead of sliding slowly towards her desired
result.
She'd have to examine her knot in private, and check the flows of
magic to see what, if anything, was going awry.
"So," she said once the line-dancing music stopped deafening the
crowd. "What else have you in store for me tonight?"
Kurt winced. "I think we can forget the dancing part, ja? Your choice
of movies, perhaps?"
"What's the most expensive movie running?" Jimaine asked.
"All movies are the same price, Geliebter," he said. "But you can buy
seats in a luxury cinema - if you're over twenty-one." A nervous laugh.
"They serve alcohol."
"*Americans*..." Jimaine tisked. She immediately resolved to run up a
huge bill at the concessions stand.
Kitty gaped at the screen. "OmyGod..." she whispered. "That's Kevin
Sorbo! What's he doing in Sci-Fi?"
Hubert shrugged. "Guess he liked the role or something. Hey, actors
can want to stretch out, you know."
"How can this like, be a stretch from _Hercules_?"
"In _Hercules_, he acted against people and CGI," said Hubert. "This
show has practical effects."
"Yeah," said Headgear. "Try treating an alien-looking freakazoid as
human, sometime, and see the difference."
_Ooops,_ thought Kitty. _Now I can like, see what the Professor was
getting at..._
"Damn. This one needs five hundred pure white rose petals and a
diamond."
"Ouch," noted Evan. "Mine needs 'Centaur spoor' - whatever that is."
"They probably mean dung."
"Eeeeeewwww..."
"Oooo! Human hair, lavender, blood..." Amanda turned a page. "Sea
salt... *damn*. What the hell is an aquamarine?"
"It's a kind of gemstone," said the Professor, not looking up from his
tome.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWW!" Evan jerked away from the page. "That one
needs an actual *heart*. And you've got to *eat* it. *Raw*...
*EEEEWWW*!"
"I'll thank you to keep your voice *down*, Evan," Xavier sighed.
Evan used his pencil to turn the page.
Amanda sniggered. "Every magic has its price, chile," she teased.
"Urgh... This one needs menstrual blood..."
"...eeeeeeeeewwwwwwww..."
The Professor rolled his eyes in the universal way of sighing,
_Kids..._ at the Universe at large.
Evan snorted, then roared laughing. "Gotta love this one. One line.
'Dance skyclad a front of hymm'."
"Dude, that isn't even a spell," said Scott. "Oh, *gross*... This one
wants mouse hearts, 'moon blood' - ew; *horse* testes and you stew it up
and *feed* it to them... Yeaurgh."
"You know, with a little paprika and oregano..." Amanda began.
"Dude! Sick!"
Amanda smirked. "There *was* more than one reason Kurt liked me, you
know."
"I can *guess*," said Evan. "You have his style of humour."
The Professor just turned another page and sighed.
"...i'm doomed..."
"What was that?"
"Nothing," Kitty lied. She should have taken a cue from Hubert's dress
code - for want of a better word. Now she felt like a sore thumb.
The population of the party - for want of a better word - was mostly
male. The few females sharing the room were dressed similarly to the
guys. Jeans and a T-shirt proclaiming their loyalty to something that
belonged, in Kitty's humble opinion, to what she referred to as the
'geek channels'.
Food was buffet-style buckets of nibbles and a contributions jar with
the word 'pizza fund' scrawled on a piece of paper taped to its side.
Hubert trawled his pockets for money and scattered the resultant coinage
and single note into the pizza fund.
Kitty, blushing, removed a couple of twenties from her clutch-purse
and stuffed them into the jar. They looked out of place amongst the
fives and ones. She quickly covered by grabbing some Cheez Doodles(tm)
and snacking on them.
Her nice blue dress belonged in a nice restaurant. *NOT* in Geekland.
An androgynous, lanky stringbean emerged from the kitchen with a bowl
of steaming cocktail franks and noticed the jar. "Hubie, you *dog*,"
cooed the stringbean. "Trust you to find a date who's a big spender."
The tall creature with the Farscape T-shirt dug into a pants pocket and
produced fifteen and change. "Thanks, kiddo. I was starting to feel
freaky."
"Well, if you did, Sara; you're right at home."
That was a *Sara*? Didn't she know what padded bras were for?
"Hey folks!" A pudgy, asthmatic doughball thundered down from the
ground level. "Ready for a good time?"
"Aye, Captain!" Cheered the room.
"We have an impressive collection of -ahem- 'sandwiches' to appreciate
tonight..."
Whistles and hoots.
"As well as a new set of music videos, both downloaded and original,
which will be playing when the pizzas get here."
Laughter.
Hubert guided her to the couch, which was also inhabited by someone
with far too many front teeth and half the Golden Gate bridge in their
headgear.
Kitty kept Hubert between herself and Headgear.
The lights went down, and the screen lit up.
_Oh, God, I'm like, totally *DOOMED*..._
"Hello Professor," said Evan. Amanda was trailing after him.
Charles raised an eyebrow. "I take it tonight's 'date' was a little -
er..."
"Dismal?" Amanda supplied. She'd been crying. "Got it in one. Kurt
wrote me a goodbye."
"A really *worrying* goodbye," said Evan. "Sounds like he's looking at
tall buildings."
"This Jimaine is nothing but bad news," Amanda supplied. "She's
killing him."
"I doubt if I'd go *that* far," said Charles. "Certainly, Kurt's been
a little *depressed*, but--"
"Professor..." Scott staggered into the room, fighting with his left
hand. "Make it *stop*... It's trying to call some really expensive
florists."
Amanda made a face. "Something truly *weird* is going on, here."
Charles winced. He'd really hoped to keep this under wraps. "I'm
afraid Scott's run afoul of a sorcerous love spell. I've been trying to
find a cure, but I'm not a very magical person."
"Sorcery," Amanda echoed. "My grandaddy had a *lot* of weird stories,"
she said. "I didn't believe half of them, but I'm starting to think they
weren't *all* nonsense. He told me that part of the war effort involved
putting a hex on Hitler. They got hold of all the magical types they
could find, a sorceror, a wizard, a wiccan and a mystic; and tried to
get them to work together to hex the guy. It didn't work. And didn't
work 'cause none of the magics were compatible. Just about anyone on the
planet can work mysticism, but you can't fight sorcery with it."
"Damn..." Charles slumped. "Then there's no hope."
"Not really, sir," said Amanda. "You *can* foul it up. If I were to
cast the same spell on Scott, but a *mystic* spell, both spells would
kind of implode."
"How kind of is kind of?" Scott asked.
"Well... for a while, the original spell will be kind of amplified.
You'll have no control over yourself whatsoever."
Scott whimpered.
Charles patted his hand. "I'll come up with a viable excuse for the
school."
"I can't go to school like *this*!" Scott objected. "I can't go as
some bibbling, brainwashed idiot, either."
"You might not have a choice," said Charles. "The spell will have
ultimate control over you."
"Aw maaannnn..."
"Thing is," said Amanda. "It's going to control you eventually. Right
now you've got a choice. Get it over with fast - or slow."
"I'm doomed," Scott groaned.
"Isn't this nice?"
"*You* might be happy in this - pit... but *I* deserve better
surroundings."
"Aw, come on," he gestured at the line dancing. "Enjoy the moment.
This is the American equivalent of patterschoen."
"It is?"
"Look at their faces. Can't you see they hate it?"
Jimaine looked. "Isn't that our waitress?"
"Ja, I was wondering about that..."
"No *wonder* the service sucks," she said.
"Hey, it's supposed to be romantic, you know? Give us more time to
whisper sweet nothings to each other. Isn't that what you wanted?"
Jimaine examined his face. He was still rigidly inscrutable, not
giving a clue away to any observer, casual or otherwise. She found
herself wishing to be able to see his tail, since its constant twitching
often gave away more about his emotions than he did.
However, technology was immune to sorcery, and she had to settle for
watching the holographic illusion for subtle hints about his emotions.
Was her spell working? There seemed to be moments when it was having
an effect on him, and others when he was resisting. Yet he was flipping
between the two extremes instead of sliding slowly towards her desired
result.
She'd have to examine her knot in private, and check the flows of
magic to see what, if anything, was going awry.
"So," she said once the line-dancing music stopped deafening the
crowd. "What else have you in store for me tonight?"
Kurt winced. "I think we can forget the dancing part, ja? Your choice
of movies, perhaps?"
"What's the most expensive movie running?" Jimaine asked.
"All movies are the same price, Geliebter," he said. "But you can buy
seats in a luxury cinema - if you're over twenty-one." A nervous laugh.
"They serve alcohol."
"*Americans*..." Jimaine tisked. She immediately resolved to run up a
huge bill at the concessions stand.
Kitty gaped at the screen. "OmyGod..." she whispered. "That's Kevin
Sorbo! What's he doing in Sci-Fi?"
Hubert shrugged. "Guess he liked the role or something. Hey, actors
can want to stretch out, you know."
"How can this like, be a stretch from _Hercules_?"
"In _Hercules_, he acted against people and CGI," said Hubert. "This
show has practical effects."
"Yeah," said Headgear. "Try treating an alien-looking freakazoid as
human, sometime, and see the difference."
_Ooops,_ thought Kitty. _Now I can like, see what the Professor was
getting at..._
"Damn. This one needs five hundred pure white rose petals and a
diamond."
"Ouch," noted Evan. "Mine needs 'Centaur spoor' - whatever that is."
"They probably mean dung."
"Eeeeeewwww..."
"Oooo! Human hair, lavender, blood..." Amanda turned a page. "Sea
salt... *damn*. What the hell is an aquamarine?"
"It's a kind of gemstone," said the Professor, not looking up from his
tome.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWW!" Evan jerked away from the page. "That one
needs an actual *heart*. And you've got to *eat* it. *Raw*...
*EEEEWWW*!"
"I'll thank you to keep your voice *down*, Evan," Xavier sighed.
Evan used his pencil to turn the page.
Amanda sniggered. "Every magic has its price, chile," she teased.
"Urgh... This one needs menstrual blood..."
"...eeeeeeeeewwwwwwww..."
The Professor rolled his eyes in the universal way of sighing,
_Kids..._ at the Universe at large.
Evan snorted, then roared laughing. "Gotta love this one. One line.
'Dance skyclad a front of hymm'."
"Dude, that isn't even a spell," said Scott. "Oh, *gross*... This one
wants mouse hearts, 'moon blood' - ew; *horse* testes and you stew it up
and *feed* it to them... Yeaurgh."
"You know, with a little paprika and oregano..." Amanda began.
"Dude! Sick!"
Amanda smirked. "There *was* more than one reason Kurt liked me, you
know."
"I can *guess*," said Evan. "You have his style of humour."
The Professor just turned another page and sighed.