Meddling Fates, a sequel to Dire Fates and Mortal Fates.
Comments and suggestions wanted.
Thank you,
David T.,
Rod M.
------------
This story takes place shortly after John Ney Reiber's run on "The
Books of Magic", Issue # 50
~*~
"Love isn't wishing. Love is work."
-Gwendolyn to Auberon of Faerie,
"The Books of Magic: Summonings"
~*~
-Now-
Tim Hunter stared at the London skyline, lit up with
cerulean and crimson fires, like tracer bullets blazing
paths all around the grand old city. The sound of gunfire
accompanied it, echoing through the city hauntingly.
"Bloody hell."
He ducked as a few shots scattered his way.
Gods and goddesses, bloody magic, he'd had his fill and yet
it always managed to come back to bite him.
In the distance, two figures carrying massive amounts of
weaponry raced across the city rooftops, blazing away at
each other and missing badly.
"Bloody stupid gods," he muttered. "Bloody stupid
goddesses."
He knew who was to blame, or at least one of the individuals
to blame. Unfortunately, that wasn't helping the situation
any.
He wasn't sure what he could do to stop this rampage, but he
had to do something.
Living in London was going to be intolerable if he didn't.
And so, faced with a daunting task, the boy who would be
magus asked himself, "What would Constantine do?"
He'd probably walk up to the two and tell them to bugger off,
that's what.
Which would be a rotten idea. Especially with the way Cupid
was running around ranting. What was that fat idiot's
problem now?
~*~
Rod M. & David Tai
present
The finale of the
Oh My Goddess / Vertigo Trilogy
Meddling Fates
Part 1
Amor Volat Undique
~*~
- One Week Ago-
Paris, France.
The city of romance.
Sitting atop the Eiffel Tower, looking down upon all
the people, Cupid hated it.
Then again, there was a lot of things Cupid hated these
days. The Roman God of Love had been going through a rough
spot lately, ever since his most recent Reconfiguration.
Reconfiguration was supposed to be a reflection of the
collective conscious of the people, applied as a template to
deities.
In the 50's, he was a rather dapper, clean-cut fellow, with
a wood pipe held in his mouth and a smile on his lips.
Haha, you kids have a good time tonight, y'hear?
The 60's were a major change for him. Suddenly he was
long-haired, dressed in floppy, colorful clothing, and on a
perpetual drug high. Peace and love, man.
In the 70's, he was the Leisure Suited Love Machine, the
hotshot disco king of pleasure. Do the hustle!
In the 80's, he was once more a sharp dressed man, hair
slicked back, with briefcase in hand and suit immaculate.
He was the Stock Broker of Romance. Love for sale!
The 90's... were apparently a very twisted era.
He was, at the moment, an overweight, bald, stubbled, and
short-temptered gangsta. No cute little wings, no cute
baby-looks, absolutely nothing cute about him this time.
Gone were the bow and arrows, replaced by a fully automatic
assault rifle loaded with love-stinger chocolates.
What's your problem? Call me Q! Love spread around by the
Gangsta of Looooove!
Only he didn't feel much like Love.
Cupid sighed.
Through all the changes that the Reconfiguration had wrought
upon him, the core of his personality was always the same.
Some changes he liked, others he was uncomfortable with, but
this was just too much.
Was this what humanity had come to?
Was there any real love in the world anymore?
He'd come to Paris to find out, but the deity of love had a
problem of objectivity. Cupid's longtime soulmate, Psyche,
had left him. She'd transformed herself in order to match
Cupid's most recent configuration, becoming a gangsta girl
armed with guns and a mean attitude. However, she'd lost
herself in the role and nearly killed a girl, but was
snapped out of it just in time.
Since then, Psyche had slowly been recovering. There were
some arguments, but who didn't have those? It was a pretty
good life, anyway.
And then one day, she kicked him out. She said that he didn't
know what love was. Of course he did, dammit! He WAS the God
of Love, after all!
That was a month ago. He hadn't heard from her since.
This did not put him in the mood to be objectionable about
humanity and love. His reconfiguration wasn't helping
either.
Screw this. He knew he still had it, still had the power to
make people love. Oh, there were a few moments of doubt, but he
still had it, dammit. But who needed love? What had it done for
him except screw him up?
If he couldn't be happy, and if humanity was going to mess
him up like this, then he was gonna mess up humanity.
With Love.
With grim determination, he picked up his sniper rifle and
took aim.
*BANG* An extramarital affair begins.
*BANG* A woman realizes she no longer loves her husband.
*BANG* A man will discover tonight that he'll need Viagra.
*BANG* An unrequited love will REMAIN unrequited.
Today, Paris... tomorrow, the world.
~*~
-Now-
*BANG*BANG*BANG*
"Yow!"
Tim ran for cover as even more supernatural gunfire flew
uncomfortably close to him, passing through walls as if they
weren't there. He looked around, then ran for the subway.
The usual crowd was milling about like they usually did, as
if nothing was wrong. This was normal. Normal people
usually don't see the magic going about around them, and
this case was no exception.
He hoped that he wasn't looking too stupid, dodging bullets
that only he could see. Probably did anyway, oh well.
Taking a seat on one of the benches, Tim caught his breath
and tried to relax.
"Tough day, huh?"
He blinked. Sitting next to him was ... someone small.
Really small.
It appeared to be female, about six inches tall, platinum
blond, and carrying some very heavy weaponry.
"Um, yes, yes it has been, I suppose."
The little woman nodded. "Know how that is. Just stopped
here to take a rest too."
"I... see."
The strange figure sighed. "Ah, well, time to get back to
the war."
Tim watched, puzzled, as the diminutive figure hopped off
the bench and scampered up the stairs to join an unseen
legion of mini-Urds and mini-Cupids in a raging war across
the city.
~*~
Elsewhere in London, the full-sized Urd peeked out from the
alleyway she was hiding in, ready to drop, roll, and return
fire at the first sign of her enemy. The twisty maze of
alleyways of London made for a really tough battleground.
In her hand was the Super Heavy Cannon Mark XXI, a little
gift from Skuld cobbled up only hours ago. About the length
of Urd's leg and four times as wide, it was surprisingly
light. It was doing its job well, though the speed of
Cupid's Uzis were tough to top.
She'd have to talk to the kid about that when she got back
to-
Urd froze. Was that a rustling she heard behind her? She
dove and rolled away as a burst of rapid fire struck the
ground she was on a moment ago. High above on the rooftop,
Cupid emptied his Uzi and shoved another clip in.
With a grin, she brought her cannon up. "EAT THIS, FATSO!"
Cupid showed surprising agility for his size and jumped off
the roof, his Uzi blazing as he fell. Urd jumped sideways
to her left, letting loose two more massive blasts. To her
astonishment, Cupid twisted and turned his massive frame in
the air to dodge the shots by a hair's width. He landed,
feet first, on a fire escape, then jumped down again and
opened fire again. Urd backflipped dramatically, ripping
out another three massive blasts as she twirled in midair.
This was no good, she thought. In tight corners like this,
her cannon was lousy and his Uzi was far more ideal.
She had to get _out_.
Jumping backwards once more, covering her retreat with more
blasts from her cannon, Urd jumped backwards, shattering a
store display window, and into a television.
//"Come'n get me, fatso!"// she taunted.
This wasn't quite what she had in mind for a weekend
getaway, but it sure as hell wasn't boring.
~*~
- Six days ago -
Tokyo, Japan.
It was a large, bustling city in the middle of an
island country that was home to many temples and
shrines, where its natives would often gather to
bow and worship.
One of these many temples was occupied by actual goddesses.
And some of these goddesses were seriously bored.
Urd sighed, reclining on the floor watching television.
In months past, there had been some hectic, frantic, and
harrowing moments. But now that things had been settled
with the archangels and Belldandy...
It was boring.
She stretched, yawning, her platinum-blonde hair playing
about her curvaceous tanned skin, and then turned her
attention back to the television.
o/~ I bet we've been together
For a million years,
And I bet we'll be together
For a million more...
She flicked her finger. The television changed channels.
"Well, it's a beautiful day in the neigh---"
Flick.
"Now, Ken-san, are you sure this is a good id---"
Flick.
o/~ I love you, you love me, we're a happy family..."
ARGH! NOT THAT! NOT THAT! FLICK!
o/~ Sit right back, and you'll hear a tale of a fateful trip
That started at this tropic port
Aboard this tiny ship...
With a sigh, she waved a hand distractedly. The television
shut itself off, as Urd put her hands to the back of her
head, and stretched out on the floor, yawning, looking at
the ceiling.
Outside, she could hear the tinkering of machinery. That
would be either Keiichi or Sku---
*BOOM*
Skuld. Definitely Skuld. Nothing new there. The little
brat had a lot of bursts of amazing creativity, that usually
ended with amazingly weak, but explosive, finishes.
With a sigh, she sat up, listening for other signs of
intelligence (not that Skuld had any....)
She could hear noises from the kitchen. That would be
Belldandy, of course, her sister, puttering around making
dinner. As usual, for that spineless wimp.
Speaking of which, where WAS that spineless wimp?
"Keiichi!" Belldandy's voice cried from the kitchen.
There. Probably stammering and trying to think of things to
say to Belldandy. As usual.
She frowned. The spineless idiot. If she could get him
to...
How long had it been?
How long had it been since Urd had come to the mortal plane
in an attempt to get Keiichi to make some SIGNIFICANT
PROGRESS with her sister?
It was the same old thing EVERY DAY with Keiichi's
clumsy-yet-touching attempts to express his affection to
her, and Belldandy responding either by missing it entirely
or giving him sweet replies or a chaste kiss or two.
Yeah, there was some real hot passion there. Right.
Urd shuddered.
She had to get out of here. A break from this... this
sickening display of pathetic gutlessness.
~*~
-Now-
High above London, the demoness Mara watched as the chaos
widened.
Her night had started out fairly crappy, but it was going
swell now. There was nothing quite like chaos and gunfire,
a perfect spectator's sport.
Random people were hit in the crossfire, spontaneously
falling in love with someone, falling out of love, or just
becoming pretty darn quirky.
Oh yeah, this was great stuff.
Coming to London was definitely a good idea.
~*~
-Three Days Ago-
Pottersville, Nebraska.
This sleepy little town, with a bustling population of 216,
was where Mara was currently assigned to.
The demoness was bored out of her mind.
She was in a town whose pride was its state cowchip tossing
champion, whose biggest annual event was the sheepdog
parade, and whose primary industry was rabbit pelts.
She thought she'd left Hell behind.
Apparently, the mortals had made a little Hell of their own,
one that could blast away the sanity of even the denizens of
the demon world.
Oh, sure there were souls to be corrupted. No problem
there. Had some extramarital affairs here, a little incest
there, a good round of lies going about, little seeds that
would bloom into flowers of damnation for the soul.
But it was all so very BORING.
She was ordered to stay there till she filled her quota for
the week, and she was just a few souls shy of it.
Mara was in severe need of a dance club and large doses of
alcohol, and she needed it yesterday.
As the sound of a square dance drifted through the air, Mara
shuddered.
Someone would have to be damned.
Almost got the quota, after all.
~*~
-Now-
Mara's musings were interrupted by the sight of a young boy
running away from the crowd. Now normally, this would not
be a special sight, but the boy was running directly towards
Cupid... or at least, the biggest Cupid.
Interesting.
As she stared at the boy, she sensed something. She wasn't
sure what, exactly, but there was something there, tickling
her senses.
Curiousity compelled her. Well, why not?
So it was a surprise to Tim Hunter when a lovely young
lady, clad in tight pants and a body-hugging bodice materialized
in front of him. Instinctively Tim backed away, for usually
when these things occured, it meant trouble.
But much to his surprise, the lady smiled.
"Well, hello there. What brings you out here?"
Tim blinked, then looked around her towards
Cupid, and shook his head. Not going to explain.
How was he going to explain? Excuse me, ma'am, there's
a rampaging Cupid and I don't really want to get involved, but
if nobody does, there could be a lot of sickening love affairs
going on?
The lady followed Tim's gaze, then smiled, almost sultrily.
"You have an interest in Cupid, don't you?"
"Uh huh." Tim continued to regard the demoness with suspicion.
He'd learned long ago that even pretty faces could hide hearts of
ice, and he'd had his fill of those sorts.
"Who're you?" he asked suspiciously, lifting a finger to
push his glasses further up his nose.
Mara smiled, even as Cupid raised an Uzi to fire at a mini-Urd
in the background behind her.
"Me? Oh, just an interested party."
~*~
-Twenty Hours ago-
It was dark in most of London, with the exception of a
massive abandoned warehouse converted into a dance floor.
Lights were swirling, strobing, and spinning through the
room, coloring the smoke in psychadelic ways, and the loud
thumping of dance music vibrated through the writhing mass
of humanity.
Lots of potential for recreational mischief here, thought
Mara.
Dark of night, lots of kids boozed up, and probably high on
drugs, she figured she could probably slip in a
reverse-satanic song in there and trick the kids into
dancing in a pattern that would open a gateway to hell.
It seemed like a great idea at the time. She was able to
mingle with the crowd, and was about to commit some random
bad deeds for the pure fun of it.
And then the clock struck midnight.
In addition to being highly allergic to good luck charms,
Mara had a secret addiction.
She was addicted to Disco. Once she started dancing,
there was no way she could stop, not until the music
stopped so that she could escape.
She had been reasonably sure that no sane person would
play disco at a rave. Unfortunately, she didn't read
the small print.
At midnight, the rave became a Disco Revival Rave.
~*~
-Seventeen and a Half Hours ago-
It was now 3:30 am, London time. Mara had been trapped
dancing for the last three and a half hours, nonstop.
She was exhausted, yet forced to dance on.
Through sheer force of will, she'd managed to edge slowly to
the doors. A few more meters and...
"Heya, Mara!"
"What the- YOU!"
Easing her way next to the demoness, moving to the beat in a
way that had the male half of the crowd very much at
attention. In addition to being surprised, Mara now felt
envious.
"So how long have YOU been watching?" growled Mara, still
bonded to the disco beat against her will.
"Oh, for the last hour," said Urd, dancing alongside her old
nemesis and friend. "How'd you get yourself into THIS
mess?"
"I didn't know it was gonna be Disco revival night!" growled
Mara.
Urd laughed, pissing Mara off even more. "Well c'mon, then!
Let's dance some more!"
"But I don't wanna! No! Stop it!"
"Nyaaah!"
Urd grabbed one of Mara's arms and pulled the miserable
demoness back into the heart of the dance floor. Mara's
dancing was noted by an undefinable lack of enthusiasm: she
was certainly gyrating energetically, and her face didn't
look tired, but there just seemed to be something missing.
Urd, on the other hand, was into the scene all the way,
writhing to the rhythm and in circles around Mara (probably
to annoy her, the demoness thought).
And then a blaze of gunfire erupted.
Urd immediately hit the ground, while Mara, still a slave to
the rhythm, just tried to dance _really_low_.
"What the hell?" yelled Urd.
"Waah!" the demoness cried.
More gunfire ripped through the air, and once again the two
dodged low. And then they realized...
Nobody else in the room seemed to have noticed.
Cautiously, they both looked up. Goddess and Demoness,
they both searched the room, almost in perfect synchronicity,
trying to locate the source of the gunfire.
What they saw was a plump, balding man in a tank top that
didn't quite cover his very ample belly, carrying an Uzi.
He opened fire once again, and his bullets struck more
bystanders in the crowd. The victims flinched, just for a
moment, and then something about them seemed to change,
something Urd could sense but not see.
"Who the heck is chubby?!" yelled Mara over the beat.
"He's..." Urd stared frantically from the man to his
victims, trying to see exactly what it was he was _doing_.
And suddenly, she realized. "He's... oh Lord, it's him."
"That's God?!"
"No, stupid! That's Cupid!"
"Nice rhyme," snarled Mara. "So what the hell is he
doing?!"
"Don't know, but I'm gonna find out." With a snap of her
fingers, Urd disappeared.
"Hey you jerk! Don't leave me like this!" yelled Mara.
She looked up at the rafters where Cupid was, and saw Urd
appear there a moment later. Cupid swung his massive
assault rifle to bear on her, but didn't pull the trigger.
Instead, they exchanged heated words, loud enough for Mara
to hear..
"Kiss my @$$, ho!"
"Get your ass somewhere where I can kick it black and blue!"
A moment later, both disappeared.
Well, one problem solved, but one bigger problem left.
Mara, still dancing to the disco, looked with longing at the
warehouse exit. It was, thanks to Urd, so very far away
now. She was in the middle of the party now, easily within
reach of the DJ.
Inspiration struck her.
She struck the DJ.
Hard.
His head tilted back for a moment, then he crashed
head-first into his equipment, bringing the music to a
screeching and ear-blasting halt. Mara wasted no time in
getting very far away.
~*~
The New Globe Theatre was silent this night, as it should be
at four in the morning. Overhead, the stars in the sky
could barely be seen through the night clouds of London.
Shakespeare had written of Cupid, off and on, in his place.
This was the first time the real thing had actually set foot
on the noble stage. Well, it wasn't exactly the same stage
Shakespeare himself had trodded, the original having been
torn down years ago, but it was close enough. It made him a
little sentimental, remembering the days he was in better
shape.
The effect didn't last long, as Urd appeared seconds behind
him.
"Okay fatso," said Urd. "What's going on?"
"Doin' my job, what'cha think?! Shootin'up peeps with the
love stuff."
"Uh-huh. That wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy feelings I was
feeling from those people."
"It certainly IS love! Unrequited LOVE! Obsessive LOVE!
The kinda love that burns a hole in y'soul!" Cupid hefted
his Uzi up slightly. "You got a problem wi'dat, bimbo?"
"Watch where you point yer stubby barrels, pasty-boy,"
growled Urd. "And who're you callin' a bimbo?"
"You, ya wanna-be love goddess," sniped Cupid. "Yeah, I
heard that these days, you callin' yourself the deity of
love. Who you think you're kiddin?"
"Ex-CUSE me?! At least I'm trying to make people happy,
y'know!"
"Yeah? How're you making people happy? Mixin' little potions in
y'kitchen? That don't make you no love expert!"
"As if you've done any better?!" yelled Urd.
"Hey, ain't nowhere that sez it hasta be HAPPY love," said
Cupid. shrugging. "You ain't got NO business callin'
yourself a love goddess."
Urd struggled to calm herself a bit. What did that fat lardass
know? Just because he had more success with the love
department than she herself did personally... Wait a minute.
"Hey, fatass, where's Psyche?"
Cupid's beady little eyes grew even colder. "Psyche ain't
your business."
Urd slapped her hands to her hips and laughed. "AHA! I KNEW
IT!" She then pointed a finger at him. "She dumped you, didn't
she?"
This, of course, was when the Demoness Mara made her
reappearance.
"What? Psyche dumped Cupid?!" the Demoness said with her
usual utter lack of tact.
"Well, yeah!" Urd replied.
"Well, about time! I mean, Cupid's really let himself go over
the years!" said Mara.
Urd nodded. "Yeah, I mean, look at that gut."
"He's not exactly the best catch in the sea," muttered Mara.
"More like a blowfish at the moment, actually," added Urd.
"Dunno what she ever saw in him, really. Why, when she was
young, she had everyone in Rome worshiping her as if she was
Venus, y'know?"
"The only reason they fell in love was 'cause they scratched
themselves with those stupid arrows of his and accidentally
looked at each other."
"Guess it's wearing off. The poor girl must be in shock
now."
The two of them started laughing, ignoring an angrier and angrier
Cupid...
"AWRIGHT! THAT'S IT!!!"
~*~
-Now-
Staring at her, Tim could feel something about the woman,
that magic sixth sense nagging him like it often did before.
"You're... you're a demon."
Mara blinked. "That obvious?" she asked. Unless she went
at it with the full horns-and-wings outfit, she usually was
just percieved as some blond with a great body and some
funny marks on her head.
"Why, yes, I am," she said casually, though her eyes were
looking at him curiously. "And you?"
"I... don't think talking to demons is a good idea," he
replied, taking a small step back.
"Aw, don't be shy," she replied. "I'll introduce myself
first. I've had many names, but you can call me Mara. And
you," she said, leaning towards him, "you seem awfully
familiar... about fourteen, glasses, British... hrm..."
He didn't want to have anything more with demons, really.
Every time he had, the results were terrible. And the way
this demon was leaning towards him made him feel like a
mouse in front of a cat. "Well... I'll just be going now,
so..."
Mara suddenly stood upright and snapped her fingers. "Hey!
Now I recognize you! You're the kid that screwed Barbatos
over! Tim Hunter!"
He cringed. So much for remaining anonymous.
"I don't suppose you know how to stop those... er...
people?" asked Tim, looking towards the raging battle behind
her.
"Oh, I might," said Mara. "Though I don't know if I want
this to stop. I mean, it's SUCH a fun spectator sport!"
"But there are people being shot!"
"What, you think they're using deadly force out there?"
asked Mara. "Nah, those two may be idiots, but they're too
goodie-two-shoes to go that far. No, if someone gets hit by
a stray shot, they'll just feel weird."
"Weird? What weird?"
"Oh, plenty of weird. Might fall in love with the first
person they see, or they might fall out of love, or, heck,
think of something that has to do with love and it'll
probably happen."
"That's not good!"
Mara shrugged. "It's not deadly."
~*~
The mini-Urd sweated. On her neck, she could feel the cold
steel of an Uzi. She cursed herself for letting him sneak
up on her. Looked like it was the end of the line.
"Hold it! Drop the Uzi, fatso!"
She breathed a sigh of relief as another mini-Urd appeared,
her own Super Heavy Cannon aimed at his back.
"Not so fast, bimbo!"
The two mini-Urds cringed as a trio of mini-Cupids arrived
on the scene, one sporting an assault rifle, one with a
shotgun, the third with a bazooka.
"What, again?" asked one of the mini-Urds. "Jeez, I-"
"Not so fast yourself, chubby!" a chorus of voices snarled.
A dozen mini-Urds appeared and aimed their cannons at the
mini-Cupids' backs.
"Damn!" spat one of the mini-Cupids. "Where-"
"Put down them cannons, bimbo!"
Some of the Cupids and Urds sighed.
"What we gots here," muttered a mini-Cupid, "issa Mexican
Standoff."
- end part 1-
----------------------------
CUPID, n.
The so-called god of love. This bastard creation of a barbarous
fancy was no doubt inflicted upon mythology for the sins of its
deities. Of all unbeautiful and inappropriate conceptions this is the
most reasonless and offensive. The notion of symbolizing sexual
love by a semisexless babe, and comparing the pains of passion
to the wounds of an arrow -- of introducing this pudgy homunculus
into art grossly to materialize the subtle spirit and suggestion of
the work -- this is eminently worthy of the age that, giving it birth,
laid it on the doorstep of prosperity.
-The Devil's Dictionary by Ambrose Bierce