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A Very Merry HBOmass by Jillybean



A Very Merry HBOmass - Part One
Date: 11 December 2004, 10:34 PM

A Very Merry HBOmass
Author:
Jillybean
AN:
What?


Oh - right.
Disclaimer: My fault. Entirely.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh look at me . . . I'm big and fancy. I can blow things up and do really cool things."
       "You have some issues I think you need to work out," Mercury shook his head, watching Jillybean sneer at the crowd gathered around Frogblast.
       "Issues," she snorted. "I have more talent in my pinkie . . ."
       Tuning her out, Mercury turned to the next page of the newspaper. "Wow, that looks really cool!"
       "What does?"
       "This trick here . . ."

"What's up with her?" K-Twizzy dodged a screaming Jillybean as she belted from the room. With a shrug, he entered and stole her space on the couch. "Wait - let me guess."
       "Frogblast," Mercury agreed, folding his paper.
       K-Twizzy looked perplexed. "Actually, I thought it was the fact she's still done no Christmas shopping."
       "Nah," Mercury shrugged. "You know women. Can't focus on more than one thing. Did you see the trick on the front page of the newspaper?"
       "Whaa . . .?" K-Twizzy glanced up from his Christmas list. "I thought we were talking about present shopping."
       "Um, no, but that's fine."
       "What are you getting for Frogblast?" K-Twizzy chewed on the end of his pencil, eyeing his notebook with some concern. "I mean, it's difficult to choose, isn't it? How can I express my feelings of awe, and gratitude . . . and some other, weird emotion that makes me feel a bit strange . . . all in one perfect gift?"
       Mercury felt his temples begin to ache.

With a gust of eerie wind and snow, the main entrance to HBO opened and LBM stumbled in, slamming his weight against the door to close it again.
       "Man it's cold out there!" He shivered, shaking the snow off him.
       "Someone's been shopping," v-shields ash hopped up from his seat to inspect the multitude of bags LBM brought in. "Can I see?"
       "No!" Slapping him away, Littlebigman manoeuvred past the crowds of Frogblast's fans and collapsed onto the sofa. "I've done my Christmas shopping!"
       "Whatcha get me?" Michael M asked.
       "Uh . . . well, what matters is that I've got all the important people presents." LBM grinned suddenly, fishing into a Bloomingdales bag for a small potted plant. "Like what I got Louis Wu?"
       The others glanced at it.
       "Should I?" Michael M prodded it and frowned. "LBM . . . it doesn't have a flower on it."
       "Plants are healthy!" LBM cradled the pot in his arms. "They make your working environment nice and stuff." He brushed dust off one of the leaves.
       "Plants may be healthy," Lance Corporal conceded, "but that's a weed. Where did you get it?"

"Well," LBM stood off the sofa. "I was walking down the market when suddenly, and without warning, there was this total eclipse of the sun."
       "Total eclipse of the sun?" Hawaiian Pig chorused.
       "Bullshit," Gold Elite retorted. "It's the middle of frickin' winter. It's snowing out. I haven't seen proper daylight in months. Total eclipse of the sun, my elite ass."
       Offended, LBM sniffed and pulled the plant pot closer. "Well it got very dark and there was this strange sound, like something from another world,"
       "Dadoo!" Michael M sneezed into a tissue. "Sorry, got the cold."
       Glowering, LBM continued, "and when the light came back this plant was just sitting there."
       "So you bought a plant nobody wanted to suck up to the boss . . ." scottisonfire glanced at the others. "Is there something I'm missing?"
       "I am not sucking up to the boss!" LBM grumbled. He pulled a length of ribbon and some sellotape from his bags. "I'll show you," he muttered to himself, tying the bow around the pot. "I'll show you all!"
       "Poor kid," Michael M shook his head, watching as LBM stormed off. "He tries his best."
       "It's a rubber fecking plant, Michael," Mercury pinched the bridge of his nose. "And I've got this damn tune in my head . . . what's it from?"

###

Akba stumbled, glaring round at Littlebigman as he hurried away, throwing a "sorry" over his shoulder.
       "Okay, Akba?" Frogblast asked.
       "Fine, fine," stepping round another fan, Akba consulted his organizer. "And after that you've an interview with some local rag reporter . . . his name's Frankie . . . just wants your insights into Halo 2 and a brief history of your life.
       "Right," Frogblast frowned, running a hand through his hair. "Will it interfere with that charity do for the Red vs Blue guys?"
       "Umm," Akba flicked forward a few pages. "No, it shouldn't. I've got KOPD on standby to get you there in a hurry though."
       "Good." Frogblast sighed. "I haven't had a chance to do any shopping yet . . ."
       "Ah, that's okay, Frogblast." Akba smiled. "I got Pico and pile o'nades working on the Christmas cards, and Guardian and Frensa Geran are out with your shopping list. We had a small problem over how to actually spell Berconius, but I think it's been sorted out."
       Grinning, Frogblast clapped a hand on Akba's shoulder. "Where would I be without you?"
       "Well right now you have to be at Seventh Column so . . . "
       "Thanks, Akba," Frogblast glanced at his watch. "Listen, why don't you take the rest of the day off, you've been run off your feet recently."
       "But . . ."
       "I'll be fine!" Frogblast assured him, heading off. "You deserve it!"

"Oh! Oh!"
       Frogblast suppressed a groan as he reached his 'Hog. "Yeah?"
       "Oh my God it's actually you," the forum goer looked completely awe-struck. "My name's Pengwyn, this is Rampant Cowboy . . ."
       Smiling pleasantly, Frogblast waved.
       "I mean . . . we are your biggest fans!" Rampant Cowboy leaned closer. "This 'Hog is pretty cool. Any special features?"
       "No . . . it's, just a 'Hog."
       "What happens if I push this button?" Pengwyn asked, leaning over Frogblast to jam the big red button.
       "The air-con comes on," Frogblast drawled. "Just like in a regular 'Hog."
       "Wow . . . " they cooed. "Air-con!"
       "Well I have to go now, I'm really busy . . ."
       "Wait!" Pengwyn yelled as Rampant Cowboy coughed up Frogblast's dust. "I wanted you to sign my chest!"

"I hope you've all sorted out your Christmas lists, boys and girls," Djof's voice came over the radio.
       Eyeing the transceiver, Frogblast let him continue. It was this or Hikaru's station . . .
       "I for one, have bought my friends matching skull sets. If you want to see some really nice tricking, we do have Frogblast coming in after the New Year, so remember which station you want to listen to this festive season, it's . . ."
       Grunting, Frogblast switched it off. "Sometimes," he told the 'Hog, "Fame isn't all it's cracked up to be."

Kyreck was standing in the cold, waiting for Frogblast to take him round the back way.
       "This way we avoid the rabid fangirls, there's quite a few of them nowadays," he said, fumbling with the key.
       "Let me help, you're frozen."
       "Thanks," Kyreck stamped his feet while Frogblast unlocked the door. "You know Fajita? Rabid, I tell you. Hey - if you ever need someone to take them off your hands . . ."
       "Yeah, you'll be there," Frogblast muttered. "Take a number."
       "Well, the offer's open - WATCH IT!" Kyreck dived, tackling Frogblast to the floor. A pancake splattered the wall behind them.

"Ah, Bentllama, how are you?" Frogblast stood, brushing himself off.
       "Good? Yourself?"
       "Can't complain . . ."

###

"Hell-ooo?"

Louis Wu ducked under his desk. "I'm not here!"
       Stuntmutt glanced at the others, raising an eyebrow.
       "He's under the desk, LBM," Jillybean called. She set the newspaper down. "Has anyone noticed we only ever have the front page of the news?"
       "I spend a lot of time looking for page three," Ross Mills agreed, sniffing a little.

"Ah - Mr Wu?" Littlebigman glanced around, catching sight of the almighty one under the desk. "Louis?" He dropped to his knees. "I brought your Christmas presents . . ."
       "Oh -" Louis pulled himself up. "Lovely." He surveyed the drooping plant and the slightly tattered bow that was looped around the pot. "Thanks."
       At this, LBM grinned from ear to ear. "Well, Merry Christmas guys!"
       "Only if someone buys me a rocket launcher," Jillybean muttered resentfully.

"Isn't that . . . sweet," BOLL eyed LBM's present, sitting on Lou's desk. "You know the theory that the Flood started out as plants?"
       Finn glanced up from his eggnog. "Hey . . . shouldn't I be the one to draw these conjectures?"
       "Why are you lot in my office anyway?" Louis broke in.
       c0ld shrugged. "It's this or the forum."
       "Forum. Please," Louis snapped, brushing some unfinished One One Se7ens off his workspace.

"Come on," Stuntmutt stood. "The pub's still open."
       "Oooh,"
       "I'm in."
       "You're too young to drink,"
       "Hah! British! You damn colonials."

Cradling his head in his hands, Louis wondered if they'd left any coffee in the office . . . but of course not.

###

Miguel Chavez pushed through the crowd in the bar, laden down with drinks.
       "Oooookies - Tequila, that's me," he set the tray balancing perilously on the edge of their small table. "Bitter?"
       "Mine," Stuntmutt paused from his artistic demonstrations to accept his pint.
       "Uh - half pint, Guinness?"
       "Ooh, mine," Jilly lunged across the table.
       "Are you sure you're a chick?" Ross Mills demanded.
       "Pina Colada?"
       Ross held up his hand.
       "Eh -" Mig held up the next bottle in his hand. "Kroaniehfe . . . err, Kroaneyaf . . . BOLL - I presume this is yours. That leaves the mulled wine for Finn and the beers for Mnemsis and c0ld."

Casually hiding the tray behind a stool, Miguel found himself a seat. "What is this we're watching?" He nodded to the TV in the corner.
       c0ld grimaced. "A new vid. Devin Olsin. I like his stuff . . . but you-know-who's showing us all up."
       "Ah, say no more," Miguel held up his hands.
       "Please don't," Jillybean added.
       "Not looking after George this year?" Ross Mills asked her, playing with his little cocktail umbrella.
       "Shishka got visitation rights. God knows how."
       "Sanity probably helped." Mnemsis reached for Stuntmutt's finished drawing. "Is that a turkey?"
       Stuntmutt did a double take of his masterpiece. "It's a Jackal . . ."
       Mnemsis' eyes widened. "Oh. I see it now."
       "Look!" Stuntmutt pointed. "There's the little beak . . . ah feck it. So George is lording it up with the Bungie folk this Christmas? Lucky him." Stuntmutt grinned slyly. "I guess he'll get to meet Frogblast."
       "I've met him," Jillybean retorted defensively.
       "Dreamy," BOLL agreed. "I mean . . . he would be. If I were Jillybean."
       "He's actually really nice," c0ld finished his beer. "Fame doesn't go to his head," he added, elbowing Jilly in the ribs.
       "It doesn't go to her head either," Mig pointed out.
       "She don't got any!" Finn chimed in, before he returned to sipping his mulled wine in the corner, firelight flickering over his features.

###

Warbow chapped on the door to Lou's office, peeking his head around the frame.
       "Louis?"
       "Hmm?" Louis swivelled in his chair, looking relieved to see that it was only Warbow there. "Hey, Warbow, what is it?"
       "We're going to meet the guys down the pub . . . do you want to come?"
       "I've got a lot of work to finish," Wu smiled. "But thanks anyway."
       "Okay." Warbow was about to close the door, when he caught sight of the plant. "What in the name of the Forerunner is that?"
       Louis prodded one of the leaves with his pen. "LBM gave it to me."
       "Lucky you. Well. You know where we'll be." Warbow closed the door.

With a deep sigh, Louis Wu looked around his office. All of a sudden he had a craving for a light, cheap, Mexican beer.
       Or Absinth.
       "What else are you going to do at Christmas?" he asked the plant. It did not reply.

"This has been one hell of a year," Lou muttered as he stuffed the unfiled emails into his 'to-do' tray. "We've had bees, fan fiction . . . and you don't even want to know about the Halo 2 leak . . ." he stopped mid-sentence. "I'm talking to a plant." Shaking his head, Louis shut his computer off and went to rinse his coffee mug out.
       "I guess you need a drink too," he said to the plant, dubiously assessing its condition. Filling the mug up, he went to dribble water over its dead leaves. "Yeah, it's given me nothing but heartache and hurt. I mean . . . I've been begging them sweetly, down on my knees. Oh please, play nicely for me."
       The mug slipped from his fingers, shattering on the desk.
       "Oh . . . gah!" Reaching for the shards of pottery, he cut himself. "Oww . . ."
       "What do they want from me?" he said to the plant, nursing his finger. "Blood?" Shaking the last droplets of water from his hands into the soil, Louis headed for the door.

"Feed me . . ."

Louis hesitated.

"Feed me . . ."

Turning, Louis eyed the plant.
       "Excuse me?"

"Feed me, Krelborn, feed me now!"

"Who you calling Krelborn!" Louis shook his head and went for the door again.
       A long tendril slammed it shut.
       "You grew fast . . ." Louis approached the plant.
       The overlarge venus flytrap licked its lips. "Because if you feed me, Seymour-"
       "-Louis-"
       "If you feed me, Louis, I can grow up big and strong." The plant wrapped a friendly tentacle over Lou's shoulders.
       "You eat . . . blood?" Wrinkling his nose, Louis peeled the tendril off his shoulder and headed back for the door.
       "I'll make it worth your while . . ." the plant cooed.
       "No! Bug off!"
       "Hmmph!" Tendrils swiftly wrapped around Lou's ankles and pulled sharply. "Feed me, Louis, feed me all night long . . ."
       "Ew!" Hanging upside down, Louis still managed to look disgusted. "Look, I'd like to help, I really would. But you're a plant, an inanimate object!"
       Swinging Louis against the wall, the plant glowered. "Does this look inanimate to you, punk! If I can talk, and I can walk . . ."
       "So far you've done no walking . . ."
       "Shut up!" Drumming its remaining tendrils off the floor, the plant shook Louis a little.
       "Listen, it's Christmas . . . people are going to start missing me . . ."

The tendrils stopped, slinking back to Louis. "Really?"
       "Well - yeah . . ."
       "The guy sure looks like plantfood to me . . ." it mused.
       "What?"
       "Hmm? Oh, nothing, nothing." The plant drew the door open. "Now . . . go fetch . . ."

###

Blackstar scanned the forum one last time, there were only a few people left, with everyone else heading off to their homes . . . or more likely the pub for the night. He hoped Warbow had put his round in for him, though it was more likely that Warbow had taken the extra drink for himself.
       "Blackstar, is that you there?"
       "Lou! Hi, I thought you weren't coming." Grinning, Blackstar headed over to him. "Glad you changed your mind."
       "Yeah . . . changed my mind," Louis grimaced, his leg jerking as if something had wrapped around his ankle and was pulling.
       Curious, Blackstar peered around Lou's shoulder. "Something back there?"
       "No, no," Louis grunted. "Eh - yes, actually - could you help me with something?"
       "Sure . . ." Blackstar glanced into the shadows. "Why is the hallway to your office so dark?"
       "No reason . . . this way, now."

###

"Oh, dear God . . ." Lietlives hung his head in shame as BOLL and Jillybean made a beeline for the Karaoke. "I don't know those people, is that clear?"
       "Too clear," Dizzy downed a vodka shot. "Hey . . . whose was that?"
       "Mine!" KP made a swipe at him.
       "Settle down, kneeless wonder," Jaxx warned. "Hey - do you know who I met today?"
       "Whom, fine lady?" Stuntmutt asked, leaning in a very sultry manner over the sticky table top.
       "Em . . ." leaning backwards, Jaxx continued, "Frogblast. I thought he'd be stuck up, but he's actually really nice."
       "Yes, well, I gave him a few pointers you know," Stuntmutt straightened up, waving vaguely at the bartender. "In fact, one might say he was my apprentish. Apprentish. App-"
       "He was doing a charity Christmas do at Red vs Blue," Jaxx sighed, smiling wistfully. "He's really quite sensitive."
       "I taught him that." Stuntmutt pushed off the table to his feet. Swaying, he headed for the bar.
       KP shook his head. "Yeah, he's a good guy, Jaxx. I think Fajita's got a crush on him actually."
       "What makes you say that?" Jaxx asked.
       "She's female," Dizzy grumbled.

"Woah there," Mnemsis made a dive to catch Stuntmutt.
       "I'm fine, I'm fine . . ." Stuntmutt brushed him off, elbowing a stranger in the process.
       "Sorry, mate," Mnemsis told the large Quake player. "Great engine, really groundbreaking. We'll be on our way now . . . Stuntmutt, maybe it's time we took you home."
       "Ahhh you lousy piece of plot," Stuntmutt leered over Mnemsis' shoulder. "I oughtta-"
       "That's right, this way," Mnemsis tried to catch Mig's eye as he headed for the door.

"Everything okay?" Miguel Chavez ducked round to the other side of Stuntmutt to help take some of the weight off Mnemsis' shoulders. "Oof. Say it with me Stuntmutt, mince pies are not a food group."
       "Oh my God - guys!" The saloon doors burst open as Goatrope dived in. He doubled over, panting.
       Dropping Stuntmutt, Mig and Mnemsis went to his side. "Goatrope?" Mig had a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
       "Oh my God, nothing's happened to Frogblast, has it?!" Jaxx leapt to her feet, clutching her glass.
       "What?" Goatrope frowned. "No, not that I know of. It's HBO - it's been . . . taken over!"





To Be Continued . . .



A Very Merry HBOmass - Part Two
Date: 17 December 2004, 12:02 AM

Author: Jillybean

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"Settle down there," Count Zero warned. "What do you mean 'taken over'?"
       Goatrope stared at him. "I mean it turned into a giant pumpkin . . ." he drawled.
       "Wait, was that sarcasm?" Gil-Galahad interjected.
       "Get out the way," KP pushed past the crowd. "What happened Goatrope?"
       "I don't know! We were just cleaning up then Lou came out and called a few of us into his office," Goatrope frowned. "Dodgy, yes, but not completely unheard of. Next thing we know, Blackstar comes screaming round the door frame, and this huge tentacle grabbed him and pulled him back."
       "Ew!" The others looked disgusted.
       "It was a plant's tentacle," Goatrope shivered. "This huge, cheap potted plant broke through the wall - and . . . HBO is completely under its control. It's eating people!"
       Frantic spamming broke out in the crowd.
       "What kind of people?" BOLL demanded. "Noobs?"
       "Blackstar's a goner," Goatrope replied.
       "Woo hoo! I mean, awwww," Warbow curbed his enthusiasm. "Guess I'll have to take his name off the strip then."

"Well, we've got to do something!" (GT)Juggler exclaimed.
       "Do you have a suggestion?" Mnemesis snapped. He stood, pacing the stained floorboards. "We need to break in somehow . . ."
       Finn pinched the bridge of his nose. "One does not simply walk into HBO," he grated. "There are . . . measures . . . far beyond your comprehension." He lifted his eyes to meet Mnemesis'.
       "We need a plan," Mnemesis agreed.
       Mig nodded, taking note of everyone they had there. "We need Frogblast."

###

"Out the way, out the way, coming through -" Ducain and Pico cleared the table of empty bottles as BOLL staggered in, lugging a large model.
       "What's going on guys? Akba?" Frogblast was roughly manhandled into a chair by Jaxx.
       Akba leaned over the table, trying to avoid BOLL's mammoth HBO model and yet still appear deadly serious. "We have a situation."
       "See here," BOLL rapped the pointer over Akba's head. "Now, as you can see, HBO is a vast and complex structure, consisting of the main forum here," he indicated the vast hallway.
       "That's been abandoned," Goatrope shuddered. "There's these little plant things patrolling it now."
       "Ahem," BOLL tapped the baton off his hand, raising an eyebrow at the interruption.
       "Sorry, BOLL, I was just giving some tactical information."
       "As I was saying," BOLL continued archly. "The archives are off in this extension, they're heavily secured as it is, but there is one weakness."

"The door?" Mirel asked, looking blank.
       "The skylight," Frogblast had a glint in his eye. "That extension runs the height of HBO, an airstrike!"
       "Exactly," BOLL smiled at his student. "Now, there are air ducts that lead from here into the fan works section. I think your best bet would be to cut through fan fiction -"
       "Why?" Frogblast glanced up. "I mean - it's chaos there."
       "I see your thinking, BOLL," Finn nodded. "If you go through fan fic there's no way that Gravemind thing will be able to track you."
       "I thought we were calling it Audrey . . ."
       "Anyway," BOLL spun the model around, opening it up. "Once through fanfiction there's a long stretch of hallway to Lou's office, where we can shut down HBO's defences and launch an attack on Gravemind."

"What do you think?" Count Zero turned to Frogblast. "Can you do it?"
       "I'll try," Frogblast promised. "We need a distraction coming in the front door though, so the strike team can slip in unnoticed."
       "You're not seriously considering this - 'air strike', are you?" Wado asked.
       "We're going to fly, high altitude, then HALO jump to the tower, rappel in through the vents and take it from there with guns. Lots of guns." Frogblast nodded, stroking his chin. "I think this could work."
       "It'll be so dangerous," The Arbitress gasped.
       Frogblast put a hand on her shoulder. "For HBO . . . we have to do it."

Mig nodded. "I'll lead the ground team, Frogblast - who's on your strike squad?"
       Frogblast studied the representation of HBO, tracing the mission through in his mind. "I'll need a tech guy, BOLL, are you my man?"
       Seemingly unsure whether or not to agree, BOLL settled for stoic silence.
       "Mnemesis, I might need your access codes . . ."
       "Uh, sure," Mnemesis turned to Mig, mouthing 'codes?'.
       "And Wado - no one knows the fan fic section better than you, I'll need your help -"
       "Wait, you said dangerous, didn't you?" Wado hesitated.
       "Yes, the next pair I'm looking for are the expendable ones," Frogblast replied.
       Wado gulped. "I'd love to, I really would . . . but I have a really bad back. Old war wounds, they act up sometimes."
       Frogblast nodded. "I know how it is. Jillybean, are you in?"
       "Yeahsureyabetcha."
       "And I'll take c0ld and Stuntmutt," Frogblast slapped his hands together. "Are we ready to go?"
       "Well I was going to say something dramatic," Mig sighed, "but you go, it's cool."

###


"Look at it," Stuntmutt glanced out of the Pelican, his face turning slightly paler. "It's . . . alive!"
       Snowy gusts blew into the dropship, beneath them HBO spread over the ground, organic sinewy tendrils wrapped around it. Through the glass they could see a sickly green glow.
       "Everyone ready?" Frogblast asked softly, pulling the straps tight on c0ld's pack. He checked the rest of them over.
       "Good luck," Randall Glass called from the cockpit. "You're gonna need it."
       Frogblast led his team out into freefall and Randall Glass swept away. "Mnemesis - they're out of our hands now." He did a double take. "Mnemesis? Why are you still here!"
       Mnemesis shrugged, watching the swirls of snow below them. "Didn't fancy missing Christmas I suppose."

"Wheeeeeee!!!! Let's do that ride again!"
       Stuntmutt quickly shut up off the looks c0ld gave him.
       Frogblast was crouched over the skylight, inspecting the joins.
       "What, no laser grid?" Jillybean frowned, clearing away the parachutes.
       "None . . ." Frogblast sounded confused. "It's unlikely that this entrance was left unguarded . . ."
       As he spoke, a large fan started to churn into life. The loud whirring drowned out all noise for five minutes, before slowly whining to a stop.
       "That'll be why then," c0ld frowned dubiously at the fan, only a few feet down from the skylight. "We're going to rappel down that?"
       Frogblast grinned. "It'll be fun!"

When the fan started up again, Frogblast blew the skylight and secured a line. "We'll have to do this one at a time," he called to them. "I'll go first, and shout the next person down."
       The fan slowed to a standstill and Frogblast dropped through the gaps between the blades.
       "Why is that thing even here?" Jillybean turned to BOLL.
       "BOLL! Come on!" Frogblast hissed.
       "Gotta go," BOLL hooked himself onto the line, muttered a quick prayer to the Forerunner, and dropped through the vent.
       "Hold, guys!" Frogblast called. "Bring the line up, quickly!"
       No sooner had the rope cleared the rotor when it started up again. Stuntmutt had gone rather pale again.
       "You're next, Muttley," c0ld volunteered him. The fan slowed again.
       "Quickly, come on!" Frogblast's voice echoed up. "I think we're attracting some attention."

No sooner had c0ld slid down the line and into the air vent when two overlarge Venus Flytraps stalked past the skylight.
       At the opening of the vent, Frogblast stayed completely still, watching the two plants deliberate over what the blown window meant. When the fan started up again he pushed the others onwards.

###

Sephlock stamped his feet off the ground, peering up at HBO through the dim light.
       "Hold it together there, marine," Miguel warned. He ran a critical eye over their higglety-piggelty little army. Ross Mills was about as professional as they got.
       "Good news," Mnemesis hurried up, his breath coming as clouds of steam. "Deimos is bringing the Subnova gang."
       "When will they get here?" Miguel turned to watch HBO. The doors had slid open. Out poured the dry, rotting plants, walking on their roots.
       "Uh . . . five minutes?" Mnemesis glanced back the way he had come, wondering if he could make it.
       Finn shook his head. "That may not be long enough."

###

Between two cliffs of musty tomes, the grating to the air vent dropped to the ground with a loud clang.
       "Let's hope no one's here," Frogblast muttered, flexing his knees as he landed. A quick glanced around revealed only what he had been expecting.

Endless.

The shelves were at least eight foot tall, the volumes stacked on them were mostly neglected, a thick layer of dust settled over their covers. Their little avenue continued past what Frogblast's eye could see. There may never have been an end to it.
       "Wow," c0ld reached out, almost reverently to touch a crusty old saga, before Stuntmutt slapped his hand away.
       "You don't know what you're doing here," Stuntmutt growled. "Any one of these could kill you with their poor grammar and merciless comments."
       Frogblast turned, aiming the SMG in a half hearted manner. He had expected this, but the vastness of the fan fic section was overwhelming him. "Jilly? Where do we go?"
       The others turned to look at her.
       "Why are you asking me?" Jilly frowned. She waved her gun at the shelves. "Why would I know where to go?"
       "Because . . ." Frogblast frowned. "Because you do this thing! You've probably got your own damned street of shelves!"
       "Probably, but . . ." Jillybean shrugged. "I don't see why I should know my way around."
       "Well!" Frogblast spluttered, going slightly puce. "Why did you think you were coming along?"
       "To look pretty?"
       Stuntmutt caught Frogblast by the shoulder. "I know some of this place. If we can at least find the more recent stuff, we'll be okay."
       "Right," Frogblast nodded. "Spread out. c0ld, BOLL, you guys climb over that case and walk on the other side, Stuntmutt? You and Jilly take the right side. Anyone see anything that looks less dusty, just shout."
       "I could provide comic relief . . . "

They had been moving for what seemed like an eternity when c0ld shouted out, clambering over more shelves.
       "Where's he going?" Stuntmutt asked.
       "No idea . . ." BOLL shrugged. "Should we keep going?"
       "No!" Frogblast looked disgusted. "Come on!"

"What is that?" c0ld poked the lump with the muzzle of his gun.
       "Hey!" Sep7imus flinched, belatedly. "Oh my God. Guys. And girl. So glad to see you!"
       "Sep . . ." Stuntmutt was pale again. "What - happened?"
       BOLL helped the wounded Sep7imus sit up, resting his back against some fic written by CoLd. "Take your time, Sep."
       Nodding, Sep eyed Stuntmutt's water canteen, licking his lips.
      "Just . . . take your time," Frogblast added, giving Sep7imus' shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You can do it."
       "If I could just, slake my thirst . . ."
       "Oh, sure!" They waited expectantly.
       Sep raised an eyebrow. "May I," he waved a weak hand in the direction of the canteen.
       "Well . . ." Stuntmutt grimaced, handing it over. "We are the strike team, don't you know."

Sep drank, drawing his sleeve over his mouth. He seemed to ponder where to begin. "I guess it's just luck that I'm still alive. I had wandered into the fan fic section. I have a - er - fanfic obsession . . ."
       "Liar," Jillybean folded her arms. "You hide a bottle of Talisker behind my fics."
       "So you're the one who's been siphoning my reserve!" Sep7imus roared, leaping to his feet and promptly forgetting his fatal injuries.
       "I had to check it was real . . ." Jilly dismissed his annoyance. "But keep going."
       "So when I heard all this chaos outside, I took a peek out," Sep shuddered. "And I saw these little cheap potted plants, dragging everyone who left in HBO deep into Lou's office. Unfortunately, I had been - er - reading for quite some time and in my rather distracted state I knocked one of these scrolls off their shelf and . . . the things found me. I ran, of course, and woke up here."
       "There's nothing wrong with you that a little sobriety wouldn't cure," Frogblast tutted. "Alcohol isn't cool, Sep7imus, you should know that."
       "I shall never partake of the stuff again," Sep vowed.
       "I have to shoot him!" Stuntmutt lunged forward. "I can't stand to see him like this!"
       "Hold it, hold it!" BOLL pushed him back. "Maybe we can use this. Sep, do you know where Jillybean's stuff is?"
       "No," Sep shook his head.
       c0ld crouched down beside him. "Where's the Talisker?"
       "This way! Lead on MacDuff! Tally ho!" Sep lurched to his feet and staggered onwards.
       "Follow the breadcrumbs," c0ld frowned. "Why is Sep7imus dropping breadcrumbs?"

Turning from stacks of fiction, Frogblast looked to Jillybean. "Do you know where you are now?"
       "Well, no," Jillybean admitted. "But I do know how to get out."
       "How?" Stuntmutt demanded.
       "This way," she pointed. Sure enough, there was a tiny door in the distance.
       "Sep, feel like tagging along?" c0ld asked.

Frogblast crouched by the door, holding his fist up.
       "What does that mean exactly," Stuntmutt asked.
       "Stop, I think . . ." BOLL crouched and crawled up to their leader. "Want me to translate?"
       "No, I can talk loudly myself," Frogblast retorted. "Me and BOLL will cover the door, Stuntmutt and and Jillybean go in when we say so, okay?"
       The door hissed, drawing open.
       Stuntmutt and Jillybean crept forward, keeping low as they crossed the floor of the hallway.
       Stuntmutt hesitated, lifting his rifle to aim at the balconies. "I don't see anything here guys, I think we're-" he was cut off by a long root wrapping around his chest and yanking him upwards.
       "Go, go, go!" Frogblast yelled, firing at the receding tentacle.
       Stuntmutt disappeared over the balcony, screaming "blue murder! Blue murder!"

"What do we do now?" c0ld yelled over the roaring of the pot plants.
       "Continue onwards," Frogblast grated. "It's the only way."
       "I think I should go back," Sep announced. "I'm nowhere near as popular as Stuntmutt and he got killed off."
       "I'll take him!" Jillybean grabbed his arm. "He wouldn't find his way back on his own."
       "I would too!"
       "Like a man ever knows where to go."
       Frogblast considered this and nodded. "Alright. You two and c0ld, go back the way we came, make sure no one follows me and BOLL in."
       "Why do I have to come with you?" BOLL grumbled, following Frogblast further into the hallway.
       "We'll miss you, BOLL!" c0ld shouted. "Take a panorama before you die!"

"Well it was nice knowing them," Sep7imus mused as they disappeared into another room.
       "Is that a terminal?" c0ld approached the panel on the wall. "Hmm. Maybe I can open the front doors from here . . ."
       "Why would you want to do that?" Sep asked.
       c0ld hesitated, disbelief on his face. "To let our army in?"
       "Oh yeah," Sep nodded. "Go ahead."
       "Thanks for your permission," c0ld replied sarcastically,

###

A squawk echoed through the corridor, drawing the attention of the other little plants.
       Frogblast leapt out, gunning them down with some very neat dual wielding.
       "Open the door," he nodded towards the control panel.
       BOLL glanced at it, then did what he was told. "This does lead straight to Wu's office you know . . ."
       "Gotta cut to the root of the problem . . . damn, I'm good."
       "Stuntmutt good," BOLL grunted. The wires sparked. "Okay - the door's gonna open as soon as is dramatically convenient, what's your plan?"
       Frogblast cocked the shotgun in his hands.
       "What if you miss? . . . never mind," BOLL stepped away from the panel, drawing his pistol as the door slid open, their vision obscured with steam.

"Drop. Everything. Frogblast."
       Gravemind perched on the large office chair, one long tentacle wrapped around Stuntmutt. Another was stroking a fluffy white persian.
       "Gravemind," Frogblast shook his head.
       "One step closer and your friend here gets it," Gravemind cackled, dangling the would-be artist over a vat of boiling curry. Off BOLL's look, the plant explained; "you'd be surprised what Wu keeps around."
       "Where is he?" Frogblast demanded, a little belatedly.
       "Right here," Louis waved from his computer. "Hows you guys?"
       A quick scrutiny of Lou's chair and terminal suggested that he was under no obvious mind control, nor was he being threatened. Frogblast took a step back, half tempted to take his shotgun and shoot the poor man.
       "What's happened to you, Louis?"
       Gravemind flung his head back and cackled, tendrils waving madly. "You foolish fools! I have simply given him the chance to catch up on work!"
       "No!" BOLL screamed, falling to his knees. "You monster!" He pummelled the carpet. "How could you do this?"

Gravemind lifted himself, snatching the guns from his attackers clutches. He shoogled Stuntmutt around a little, circling Wu's chair with a loving tentacle.
       Frogblast looked away.
       "What will you do now? Without your precious Wu what will you do? How long will you survive? You may launch wave upon wave of your soldiers - but as long as I hold this office you are lost." He drew back, sweeping the curtains aside.
       Feeling ill, Frogblast stepped forward to watch the noble battle beneath him. In the snow the Subnova crew had done their best, but they were being beaten back. The potted plants were relentless.

"Now, now," Gravemind patted him on the shoulder. "It's not all that bad."
       "Don't touch me." Frogblast pushed away.

###

"Cross that wire there,"
       "No! Make the blue thing red!"
       "I think if I could do this myself-"
       "Maybe it needs a drink . . ."
       "You think everything needs a drink!"
       "Could you maybe not stand right there?"
       "Well you're the one stealing from my Talisker!"
       "Hidden in my fics!"
       "BACK OFF!" c0ld spun, startling the other two.

"Sorry," Sep said.
       "We won't do it again," Jilly added. "Promise."

c0ld turned back to the panel.
       "Maybe if you make that one-"
       With a bloody scream, c0ld filled the hole in the wall with lead. "Happy! HAPPY?"

"Actually," Sep pointed at the open door. "Yes."

###

"Look!" Finn pointed. "The main gate!"
       Deimos glanced up, following the path of light shining down the snowy slope. Grinning, he lifted his plasma sword. "Charge!"

###

"Damn it!" Gravemind swept to the window again. "How did they - no matter. Call them off!"
       Grinning, Frogblast folded his arms. "Never."
       "Call them off!" Gravemind stood nose to stamen. "Or Stuntmutt gets curried."
       "Kill him," Frogblast shrugged, "he means nothing to me."
       "Oh really?" Gravemind lifted himself to his full height, looking Stuntmutt in the eye. "Prepare to say goodbye!" He hesitated, gripped Stuntmutt a little tighter. "Prepare!! It's the end, I tell you!"
       Frogblast snorted.
       "Awwww shucks," Gravemind set him down. "I just can't do it, with those puppy dog eyes and that bizarre accent . . ."

"Thanks," Stuntmutt coughed, flat out on the floor.
       "Ssh," Wu muttered, distractedly taking a bite of his doughnut.
       "Sorry," rubbing his very bruised and possibly broken larynx, Stuntmutt made more of an effort to stay quiet.

"I knew you couldn't do it," Frogblast told him, nodding his head. "You may be a plant, but deep down you're still - "
       "Oh shut up!" A single sniper shot took out Gravemind. The voice behind it sounded less than pleased. "You think you're so smart, don't you?"
       "Who is that?" Frogblast demanded, casting around wildly. "Show yourself!"
       Laughter echoed from the shadows of the room and a small figure approached. Just a regular forum goer.
       Frogblast's aim faltered. "Who - who are you?"
       "Oh," the stranger laughed, his eyes quite wide. "Who am I? Good question, good question! Ha ha ha!"

Frogblast found himself taking a few steps away. "Did you do this?"
       "Oh, moi?" He laughed again. "Little old v2 orchestrate all this? After all - he's only MISCELLANEOUS ART!" Without even a glance in BOLL's direction, v2 shot the gun the Swede had been reaching for to the other side of the room. "Down boy."
       "Yes, sir."
       "I did this," v2 admitted coldly.
       Frogblast frowned. "You just said you were only-"
       A sniper blast cut over his shoulder, smashing the coffee mug in Lou's hand. Lou seemed not to notice and tried to take a drink from the handle anyway.
       "I know what I said," v2 circled him. "Miscellaneous art. Do you know how I suffer for my work? The pain? My fingers bleed for my efforts and what do I get?"
       "Uh -" Frogblast wondered which response wouldn't result in more gunshots.

"Oh, shut up," v2 spun the chair around and collapsed into it with a heavy sigh. "You know, last year? I drew a beautiful Santa Elite. What happened? Some crappy fanfic stole its place. I drew a spooky Hunter and the que didn't get updated till June. Do you know how far away June is from Halloween? They're not close to each other."
       "Is that so?" Frogblast edged a little closer to Wu's chair.
       "No," v2 shook his sombre head.
       "That's," Frogblast stole a glance at Wu's screen. "That's really bad."
       "Yes, yes it is." v2 sighed deeply. "Of course, you see why this had to be done, don't you?"
       "Uh - to update the miscellaneous art?" Frogblast questioned, giving Lou a nudge.
       "Oh, oh no, no, no, my poor, deluded friend." v2 rubbed his chin in thought. "Although . . . it might be an idea."
       "Oh I think it would be a. Great. Idea." Frogblast stood on Wu's foot.

"Whaaa?" Lou glanced up. "Where's Gravemind gone?"

"Just go back to work," v2 told him.
       "Or update," Frogblast eyed Louis meaningfully.
       Louis stared back, completely blank.
       "Such a . . . .a flood of artwork," Frogblast said hurriedly, turning back to v2. "I bet there's lots . . ."
       "Oh yes," v2 nodded eagerly, glad to have found a sympathetic ear. "Tonnes! Almost enough to kill a person. All of it brilliantly done too."
       "Yes," Frogblast nodded gravely. "If only. Someone. Would. THINK. To. Update."
       "I don't blame Wu," v2 shook his head. "Oh no, I blame other things. Like fan fiction. We wait. Oh so patiently, we wait. Fanfic authors? No!!! They get their little kicks. We, on the other hand-"

"Oh!" Louis cottoned on and tapped a button on his keyboard.
       "We're left to rot-" v2 was ranting on, Frogblast leapt for him, pushing his roll-y chair under the flow of unopened fan art.
       "Come on!" Frogblast grabbed Stuntmutt by the scruff, leading the others on a helter skelter flee from the office, chased by a tidal wave of water-colours.

They skidded into the great hall of HBO, yelling warnings to the others.
       As soon as he hit the drawbridge Frogblast flung himself into the snow filled moat, covering his head as the unsorted artwork went flying overhead, pelting into the snow like tiny creative missiles.
       "Wow," Jaxx grinned, lying back into a snow drift. "Fireworks!"
       "Pretty," Steve agreed.
       Wado watched the plants get borne away by the tide. "You know guys, there's a Christmas message to all this . . ."
       "Guys! Hey!" Blackstar bounced out of the snow, giving Warbow a big hug.
       "Oh. Blackstar, how wonderful to see you," Warbow said flatly. "I guess we can put your name back on Calvin and Halo . . ."

"So . . ." Wu shook himself off.
       "Lou!" Ducain leapt on him, arms out wide. "We were so worried!"
       "Yeah!" Halochick sat up, eyes welling with tears. "We thought you were eated up by the plant!"
       Frogblast glanced at the Wu, then back to the forumgoers. "Well, we saved him just in time."
       "Yeah . . ." Lou sighed. "And I was nearly caught up on my work as well . . ."
       Finn shuddered convulsively. "Not a moment too soon then."
       Lou sighed wistfully, pulling himself to his feet. "Well, come on kids! Santa won't come if you're not all tucked up in bed!"
       "I think Stuntmutt wants a new voice box," Grady eyed the frantic pointing. "Or maybe he wants to go to hospital. I'm really no good at sign language."
       "It's an improvement if you ask me," 7he One grinned.
       "Do you think Santa Claus knows I want a Master Chief action figure?" Tar asked, blinking up at Lou.
       Wu stroked his snowy white beard, guiding the forum back inside. "Oh I think he knows, little one. I think he knows . . ."



Authors Notes: Gah.

Big thanks to Frogblast and v2, who allowed their names and likenesses to be defiled so much more than the rest of you . . .
Thanks to all the poor forum goers who were splattered across this . . .
Thanks to BOLL, c0ld and Stuntmutt, for being general pains and helping to distract me when I had much better things to do -

And dedicated to Wu, who works harder than the rest of us play

Have a very merry Christmas!





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