TAPSLAUGHT #3

"Oh no, you don't. I'm going to make it out of this alive," yelled Mitai as she tossed the clipboard to the Captain. The Captain tossed it to the dazed Rowan and it bounced off his head.

"Oooh, sorry, " gasped Captain. "That had to hurt." "Ur?" muttered Rowan, not seeming to notice.

The Captain realized she was still holding the clipboard and uttered a small 'Eek' as she tossed it to Yasmin. The game of hot potato continued until everyone realized Dande was standing nearby, tapping her foot impatiently.

"I ask for order and all I get is chaos!" she exclaimed. "Work with me, people!!!" She held out her hand with exaggerated politeness. "Give," she stated as if she were speaking to a dog. "Um, Dande. Are we chasing or are we staying?" asked Pook inbetween toots of chase music on the kazoo.

"We'll chase after we deal with these impudents," stated Dande with a grin that made the hearts of the assembled group sink.

Pook instantly switched to a dirge on the kazoo.

The writers, muses and fictives exchanged looks.

"Give back my clipboard without a fight and I promise Tapslaught will be merciful when she kills you."

::DON'T MAKE PROMISES YOU CAN'T KEEP:: thundered the voice of the approaching Tapslaught.

"Um, look!" shouted Fancy pointing in the distance as she tried to distract Dande. "There's Abyss!" "How stupid do you think I am?" asked Dande angrily. "Abyss is dead, a victim of the mighty Tapslaught and her...er, might."

"Um, look!" shouted Fancy pointing in another direction. "There's Jess Willey!"

Dande's eyes lit up. "Where? Oh, Tapslaught would be most pleased to destroy him!!" She turned and ran off in the direction followed by Pook who had switched back to chase music.

"Quick, let's get out of here!" cried Mitai.

"No, wait, I have an idea," Yasmin answered, staring at the clipboard.

"Well hurry up before they come back!" urged Fancy, glancing over her shoulder nervously.

"Well, you know they'e going to chase us as long as we have this clipboard. And the idea of having the fictives replace us was a good one. So let's change the names of the writers on this clipboard into the name of fictives."

Everyone stared at Yasmin. "That's...er, brilliant."

"Works for me."

The Cecilia Reyes fic groaned. "This is not fair!"

Yasmin quickly set to work changing the names on the clipboard. When she was done, she wedged the clipboard between some hunks of rubble. "Okay, that should hold them for a while. Let's get out of here and get a plan!"

(D) Dande watched as Renn made off with her clipboard and sighed lightly. "Oh, have it your way. If it makes you feel better take the bloody clipboard."

She held the golden pen aloft and let it disappear in a swirl of shimmering light. "Material items aren't all they're cracked up to be anyway. Heralds cannot lord by clipboard alone."

She looked at Pook. "Despite the odd free will thing," Dande cast a look at the quivering sleeping bag on the ground. "And I do mean odd, we've got things well in hand."

Pook tooted on her kazoo. "Which means we move on to the next phase."

Dande nodded. "Right." She inclined her chin, looking thoughtfully into the sky. "Scene of mass destruction...absorption of great powers...victims in line..." Dande paled and looked at Pook.

Pook's expression was of blank terror. "You don't mean..."

Dande nodded.

"No...we can't...she can't...it's too horrible..."

The two Heralds stared at each other for a moment then slowly cast their gazes to the looming figure of Tapslaught.

Dande's voice was hushed. "We have to warn the boss." She sprinted madly towards Tapslaught with Pook following, a panicked strain tooting from the Kazoo of Doom.

"Boss!"

::What is it? I was just about to destroy Matt!::

"Right." Dande ran her fingers through her hair. "Sorry. Hate to interrupt."

::What?!::

"Can we talk to you for just a second?"

Tapslaught's eyes flashed.

Pook backed Dande up. "We wouldn't ask if it weren't vitally important."

There was a ghastly pause. ::All right. But get to the point.::

The two Heralds and the mightly figure of Tapslaught moved to one side. The Heralds immediately began a hushed discussion punctuated by feverish hand gestures.

As one, the Writers leaned towards the three hoping to catch the conversation.

"...ball...scheduled after...destroy all...problem...whole wretched...interruption...Heroes Reborn...want that...gimmicky...cliched mess...Liefeld..."

Tapslaught stiffened. ::I see::

Dande and Pook exchanged glances. "Any ideas, boss?"

Tapslaught leveled a glare at Her Heralds. ::Fix it::

Realizing they'd been dismissed Dande and Pook moved away from Tapslaught's intimidating figure.

Dande walked towards the end of the line.

"What are we going to do?" Pook whispered.

Re: Tapslaught #3

Dande held up her hand and manifested her golden pen. "It's a problem. I never did like the canonized explanation of Onslaught." She tapped her chin softly her eyes flicking from the line of Writers to the sleeping bag. "We're going to have to make a deal."

Pook played a hopeful tune on the Kazoo.

"It's going to require some delicacy, some ingenuity and some guts," Dande continued. "We have to find a way to prevent the Tapslaught versions of Heroes Reborn from ever reaching Subreality."

"Do you think we'll get them to help us?" Pook nodded her head to the various Writers.

Dande clutched Pook's shoulder. "They've got to help. Unless they want to find themselves Liefeldized..."

(Ly) Lyss waited till they were far away from their previous location, before mentioning the odd occurence. "Yasmin?"

"Yes?"

"How many Dandes and Pooks does your computer register?"

Yasmin checked. "Three of each. Three? That can't be right."

"Damn." Lyss stared into space for a moment. "I think one of the Sinisters is working for the big T, then."

Yasmin sighed. "Not good, then."

"Nope."

***

Earlier (by an undetermined number of minutes)

"Milady, I have brought mine friends." Thora stood there. Lyssie nodded and gestured to Yasmin. "She'll give you your orders, thanks."

Turning away, she studied the horizon. The screaming of the Writers could still be heard. ~Why aren't they running?~ The line stretched into the distance, never ending. ~They're all just standing there, like... Zombies.~ She glanced back. Yasmin and the others had everything well in hand. ~Time for a little investigation, methinks.~

Slinking along the line, Lyss carefully approached the first Writer she recognised. "Luba? Luba Kmetyk?" The woman was silent, staring dazedly forward. "Luba!"

Lyss reached out and carefully touched her. Nothing. She waved a hand in front of her face. Still nothing. Desperate, she leaned in to grab the Writer's shoulders. ~erk.~ Disorientation slammed into her. The ground was abruptly a very good friend.

Panting, gasping, she scrambled away on her hands and knees. ~What the bloody hell was that?~ She stared at the line. It was unchanged. Luba still stared into the distance along with her co-Writers.

~I think...I think I know why the Writers aren't running.~

She arrived back at the ranch, to find Yasmin hastily stopping the Avengers and Fantastic Four from an all-out assault against Tapslaught.

"Look, I don't want to even think about what would happen if we had a 'Heroes Reborn' in Subreality! You will be calm, quiet, and take the places of the Writers silently."

"Oh. All right, then." Thora looked rather put-out, but appeared to accept it.

"We've got a problem."

"So what's new?" Mitai demanded. "Tapslaught's out there, she has two Heralds who are multiplied by someone's Sinister, who is working for the big T. How can it get worse?"

"The Writers are mesmerised."

(M) "Mesmerized, huh?" Mitai glanced the way Lyssie had just come. "Mesmerized, like, I don't believe this nice Tapestry could become TAPSLAUGHT, or mesmerized as in, dribbling a lot and not blinking?"

Lyssie stared at her. "Yes."

"Oh. Pity there isn't a trumpet player around. A few measures of the Artunian trumpter concerto would wake 'em up."

Mitai blinked, and her face turned the kind of sickly sweet that makes you feel sticky goo between your fingers. "If I don't get to be an assassin, I might as well be a musician. Think I can drown out that kazoo?"

Mitai whispered something to Yasmin, who was still trying to deal with the rather stubborn Would-Be Heroes Reborn. She hardly blinked and handed her laptop over to Mitai.

After four and a half pages of typing, a 70mm object appeared beside her. It was cork on one end, and two very thin, narrow pieces of cane tied to the other with blue thread.

Lyssie was not impressed. It was a heckuva lot smaller than the kazoo. "What is that?"

"This is an oboe reed. A perfect oboe reed. God, I love this place already."

Humming, she typed three words, and an oboe appeared in her hand.

"Mitai, uhm...what're you doing?"

"Ever heard of the Pied Piper of Hamblin? Lead all the rats away, then lead all the children away with his pipes? I'm really no help to you guys. I'm helpless. I have no pen, no paper, and no Really Nifty Assassin powers. Might as well go out on a D-minor melody."

She turned toward the assembled Writers, sucking on the reed thoughtfully.

"Y'know, I bet I get killed in three seconds flat for this. Yasmin, where do you want me to lead them? And how quickly can you get them replaced?" If this lunacy works at all, of course.

(Y) Into the mouth of hell... Yasmin thought wryly. Since when did I become Fearless Leader?

She thought for a while, then said. "I'll open a portal to Subreality Hospital. Lyssie and Captain, do you think you guys can go in first and brief the doctors?"

"No problem," said Lyssie cheerfully. Her sister Muse saluted sharply, a broadsword appearing in her hands.

"Bring Rowan with you. He doesn't look too good." Yasmin consulted her laptop. "Bugger. Matt's at the front of the line."

Fancy winced. "How are we going to distract TAPSLAUGHT?"

The others stared at her.

"What? What?"

"We never considered that," said Mitai, blanching.

Hurriedly, Yasmin typed something at the keyboard. She gritted her teeth, and unexpectedly punched the ground. "We need more people, damn--" The Writer stopped. And grinned. "I think I have an idea. I'll just pull out a couple of fictives..."

***

A few minutes later...

"This is a stupid idea," said one of the said fictives, who was wearing a business suit. Yasmin introduced her as Ai-Leen Hadler. A girl stood beside her, staring wide-eyed at everything.

"We're desperate," said Mitai.

Ai-Leen snorted. "Now that's the truth." Her eyes hardened. "You're sure that my daughter," she patted the child's head, "won't be hurt?"

"Fictives don't die in Subreality. They just..." Yasmin paused.

"Become temporarily inconvenienced," supplied Fancy helpfully.

The Chinese woman sighed. "Let's get on with it." She knelt down and faced her daughter. "Do you know what you have to do, Susan?" she asked gently.

"Yes, Mommy," the girl answered. "I'll do everything okay." They hugged, painting a picture that drew suspicious sniffles among the assembled Writers and fictives.

"I...I've set it up so you two won't feel any pain," Yasmin faltered out.

"We appreciate it," said Ai-Leen, kissing her daughter.

At an invisible signal, the resistance group went to their assigned hiding spots, moving in perfect tandem like well-oiled machinery. Crouched low, they waited grimly.

***

"Hey, you!"

TAPSLAUGHT looked down, foot-to-face with a pissed-looking woman. ::Are you talking to me, pitiful mortal?::

"Yeah, you!" She crossed her arms, and glared up. "And I'm not pitiful!"

::Go away, pestilence, before I turn you into space dust.::

Ai-Leen narrowed her eyes. "I don't think so. Susan, now!"

The child leapt from her hiding place, touching TAPSLAUGHT's leg. Immediately, the power-crazed Writer's clothes turned to...milk chocolate?

::ARGH!:: she screamed, horror and humiliation warring in her gigantic face. ::Heralds, catch those impudent creatures!::

Mother and daughter sprinted away, defiant laughter ringing in their wake. The Heralds burst into action, Pook playing chase music on her kazoo. TAPSLAUGHT watched after them, flames aiming at and missing the fictives.

Unnoticed, a glowing blue portal popped into existence. At the cue, the fictives began moving towards the mesmerized Writers.

Mitai began to play her oboe.

(Az) "Hssst, Yas!"

"Huh, what, Azzy?"

"Lemme see your laptop for a sec."

"Okay..."

Typing a few words, a cherry with a dunce cap on appeared and snarled.

"Eeep, delete! Delete!" The bed disapeared Azzy gulped and ran spellcheck, and then a nice cherry red snare drum appeared on the ground. Two new smart-looking drumsticks were laid across the top.

"Um, Az, how is this gonna help?"

"That's were you come in, Fancy."

Typing a couple more words, a tiny fife lay at the side of the drums.

"Oh, I get it!" Fancycatz squealed. "You play the fife and I play the drum and we lure them over here with Mitai!"

"Sort of."

"Whatdoyoumean sort of?"

"I play the drums, you play the fife."

"B-but I can't play!"

"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head. I fixed so all you have to do is blow into it, the thing plays itself." Azzy grinned. "Aren't I just the smartest?" All of the sudden, they heard a small voice.

"Hiidy-Ho!" the fife cried.

Azzy moaned "Aw dammit."

(C) The silver clown appeared in the bushes by the rebel musicians. Ah. So that's what they're planning... The clown disappeared. Crackers reappeared in front of the kazoo players and whispered the rebels' plans into Dande's ear.

"I can accompany the kazoo if you'd like," he said.

"Yeah, whatever..." said Pook.

The Silver Snowboarder snapped his fingers and a Black Fender MusicMaster appeared; he amplified the tune of the Kazoo of Doom, drowning out the rebels' sound.

(Y) Anger and determination boiled in Yasmin's mind. She grabbed hold of Fancy and Azzy. Pointing to the silver clown, she whispered, "Let Mitai play her oboe first. When the Writers start to move, then add your music -- if we give them all that we've got now, they'll drown our music for sure."

Azzy and Fancy looked at each other, and nodded. "So how are you going to stop Crackers?"

Yasmin bit her lip. "I'm open to any ideas."

"You think that Susan..." Azzy started.

"Done!" She typed feverishly on her laptop.

Still running, the two fictives suddenly skidded to a halt.

"You want us to what?!" hissed Ai-Leen, pressing her and to her temple. Turning around, the duo's eyes narrowed as they saw the clown. "No choice," she grated out.

Picking up her daughter, she asked, "Ready?"

"Yes!"

They charged.

Not expecting the fictives to run towards them, the Heralds and Crackers hesitated. The split-second was enough for Susan to reach the Black Fender MusicMaster, and turned it into chocolate.

"AAAGH!" screamed Crackers.

"It's all up to Mitai now." Yasmin sent up a prayer. She beckoned Azzy and Fancy forward, saying, "Get ready, guys."

(M) Oh, yeah, gee, no pressure here, Mitai thought as she raised the reed to her lips, surveying the landscape she somehow knew she would be very intamite with just as soon as TAPSLAUGHT noticed. Now, what to play. Well, let's see...Marcello...no, too slow...a Schumann Romance...no, might attract Dex...Cimerosa...okay.

"Hope you guys can accompany in minor keys," she muttered under her breath, and began to play, ignoring the slight sting of her newly-skinned hands.

And I thought my senior recital was stressful, she thought wryly, wondering how long a person stays aware after their head gets separated from their body. Some books said as long as a minute... The first tones rang out of her trusty Lorree oboe.

And things started to happen.

Writers standing in lines suddenly gained moisture back to practically solidified contact lenses. They blinked. They murmured incoherently. They shifted weight on stiff legs. They wiped drool from chins absently. By the time Mitai had worked her way to the middle of the first movement, they had begun to awaken.

Quickly, with the help of Ana/Lyssie, Yasmin, Fancy, and Azzy, fictives began running to take the place of moving but luckily still very calm, subdued Writers. Mitai ignored them except to send Yasmin SOS looks that plainly said, Where the heck am I supposed to go now?!?

Yasmin interpreted those looks to mean, am I awesome or what? She nodded and smiled and continued directing the fictives into line and the Writers out of line.

Mitai decided she was going to walk THIS WAY, and see if anybody would follow. The question remained, once she had led the Writers off, where were they going to hide?

And the Writers obeyed Yasmin's directions, and followed Mitai.

(Y) "This way!" Yasmin hissed, leading the way towards a glowing blue portal. The portal waxed and waned like an electric moon, and the Writer frantically kept on typing as she ran. Azzy caught her as she stumbled over a smouldering brick. "Thanks," she said absently. Sweat trickled down her forehead, betraying fear and anxiousness. "Quick, Mitai, get them in there!"

Mitai nodded, the sweet notes fading slightly as she disappeared into the portal. As the last of the Writers followed after her, Azzy and Fancy followed, still playing their instruments with a kind of manic desperation.

Yasmin, now alone, looked around. I'll be damned if I'm going to leave any writers to TAPSLAUGHT's mercy, she thought.

A pained scream grabbed her attention. She turned to look, almost ran -- only to stop short. Her eyes widened with horror.

Ai-Leen faced TAPSLAUGHT and her heralds, smoking ashes staining the rubble beside her. Tears coursed freely down her cheeks, and her face...

Yasmin swallowed the lump in her throat. The fictive's face was twisted with pain, anger, sorrow, and a hatred that burned in her eyes.

"Murderer!" she accused harshly, voice cracking.

::I am truly sorry for this:: said TAPSLAUGHT, and Yasmin was surprised to hear real concern in her voice. ::But disobedience cannot be tolerated.::

"You just keep telling people that, bastard. Maybe someday they'll listen."

Uh-oh, the Writer thought. I don't like the sound of this...she's only a low-level psi, fercryin'outloud!

Ai-Leen was beyond reason now. With an inarticulate scream, she reached out for the being's mind, dumping all her feelings in one sharp thought. Fear, anger, horror, and overwhelming them all, grief -- it was nearly more than TAPSLAUGHT could take.

A beam of pure energy and a sickening sizzled complemented TAPSLAUGHT's scream.

In the silence that followed, Yasmin forced herself to turn and leap into the portal--

--into the arms of a dark-haired man. She squinted up at him, eyes suspiciously blurry. "Dr. Strange? But aren't you..."

"I'm the Film Noir version," he answered her unspoken question. "The Writers are safe. A couple of McTaggerts and McCoys are handling them now."

As he spoke, three Moira McTaggerts bustled past, speaking in various versions of the Scottish dialect. Yasmin stared after them, finding herself unable to feel relieved.

"Thanks," she said dully.

(Ly) Time froze for an instant. Lyss felt her knees give and she dropped to the floor with a *thud*.

"Ow.Owowowowowow." Muttering, she glanced around at the others. Writers and fictives, Muses all had been affected.

"What the hell was that?" Mitai demanded.

"Dunno. I think it might have been some sort of converging reality split." Lyssie paused, "Kind of like, this reality splintered into two..."

"Oh."

(Y) Yasmin blinked, memories of a reality that never was tap-dancing in her head.

"Ow..." she muttered.

Dr. Strange handed her an aspirin and a glass of water.

She looked up at him, eyes narrowed. "You don't seem fazed by it."

"When you've worked with a dozen different versions of McTaggerts and McCoys, you tend to take little things like a reality split in stride," he answered, shrugging his shoulders.

The Writer pulled herself to her feet, looking around at the others. "Everyone okay?"

"Yeah," answered Azzy. "I managed to pull Renn in just in time."

"What about Frito?"

Mitai coughed, tilting her head meaningfully. Yasmin's gaze followed the direction, until it rested on a battered-looking car.

Parked in the lobby.

Her mouth fell open. "How in HELL did you guys manage to get it in here?!"

The Muses smirked. "Secret Muse power," said the Captain, innocence personified. Lyssie grinned openly.

"I don't think I want to know." Yasmin rolled her eyes, wondering if it was possible to exchange her Muse for a cat.

Fancy waved her hand. "So what do we do now? TAPSLAUGHT's still out there, we're here, and we're not making much progress."

(M) Mitai watched her 'group' frown and ponder. What to do about TAPSLAUGHT? She somehow doubted she was good enough of a play to lead TAPSLAUGHT into the ocean like the Pied Piper, which meant, once again, she was useless.

"Yasmin?"

The other Writer glanced up at her. Despite her tired face, there was something more there, something...ancient and sad.

"Your fics?"

Yasmin just looked up, then back down at the aspirin Dr. Strange had given her with a look that plainly said, Gee, I wish this was alcohol. Mitai awkwardly approached her and crouched down beside her. Lyssie and Captain also came over, faces sympathetic but mouths silent. While 'group hug' would have seemed cheesey and *way* too Barney-like for their tastes, their proximity and promise of support seemed to comfort the almost shell-shocked Yasmin.

When Mitai felt it safe to speak, she did.

"Yasmin...what happened to the Writers? I mean, the if-a-single-one-lives, they-all-live was purely a deal with Death, right? So if the Writers are dead, can we write them back alive, or ..."

Yasmin gave up the ghost and started to cry a little, a few tears quickly multiplying into BIG tears. She didn't sob, just quietly wept.

Feeling VERY out of place, Mitai decided to see if she could wake up the other Writers. Lyssie and Captain looked like they had everything in hand, and Azzy was running to get some soda, if any could be found. Fancy was holding the instruments and looking decidedly sad. They could comfort Yasmin better than Mitai.

The Writers stood in the single file row, looking dazed but still pretty calm. Mitai walked up and addressed them.

"Yo, Writers."

Nothing. Well, not true. Someone blinked.

"Guys...TAPSLAUGHT is on the other side of that blue portal."

A few murmers. Mitai pursed her lips.

"Isn't that Scott Lobdell just godly?"

"WHAT?!?!?!"

Mitai grinned and leapt to hide behind a very startled Hank McCoy.

(F) "Ahh, here it is," muttered a Dande snatching the clipboard from where it was wedged between two rocks. "Now, where were we." The landscape shifted as the line of fics and Tapslaught slid across the expanse that separated Dande and then. "Okay, Selana, Sid Mayer, Songmaster?" Dande scanned the line. "Ahh, there you are. You're up. Those of you with first names beginning with T, you're on deck."

There was a rush and a roaring and screaming. There was definately screaming. The mighty Tapslaught grabbed a fic in each hand, headless of their screaming, headless of their struggling, headless of their fear. The fics twisted and writhed in pain as they began to glow. Slowly they began to fade away, growing fainter and fainter until only their screams lingered. Tapslaught laughed in delight, relishing the power.

::PROOFREAD THIS:: she snarled in harsh, mocking voice.

Blasts of fire shot from her eyes, incinerated two more fics.

::WRITE THAT:: Tapslaught growled in a rage.

She picked up another fictive from the line and hurled it randomly.

::FINISH THIS STORY!::

"Um, boss...your rampaging is lovely, but you're getting ahead of me. Now I've lost my place on the list!" interrupted Dande.

Tapslaught stared at Dande for a moment.

::THE ALL POWERFUL TAPSLAUGHT Is RANTING. IT IS NOT ADVISABLE TO INTERRUPT::

"Uh, right boss. Sorry boss," muttered Dande contritely.

::DANDELION. DO YOU NOTICE ANYTHING ODD ABOUT THESE VICTIMS?::

"They're no longer alphabetized?" asked Dande hopefully.

::NO! THEY'RE...THEY'RE EMPTY, HOLLOW...SUBSTANCELESS...IT'S AS IF THEY'RE...:: Tapslaught bellowed with rage as realization dawned. ::THEY'RE FICTIVES! WE'VE BEEN TRICKED!!!! YOU FOOL!!"

Dande cowered under the clipboard which she held over her head like a shield. Pook played a Thunderous Classic (TM) on her kazoo as Tapslaught raged anew.

***

Meanwhile, on the other side of the ruins of the Subreality Cafe another Dandelion and Pook Ming looked around. "Jess Willey isn't here," hmphed Dande in aggrevation. "That was a waste of time. Geesh!"

She turned to Ming. "Pook, if you will, a march to lead us back to Tapslaught. I'm sure she's wondering where we are. And there's much work to be done if we're to take over Subreality and then the world."

With a determined stride Dande turned and headed back toward Tapslaught, followed by Pook who hummed happily on her kazoo.

***

End part 3