Chapter CDXIII: Fooled by a Fool ~Lich

Where was the real Multehx? Only a few days before, Lich had come across that fake, who had his real voice and Presence. Here now, though, was the real body, but not the real mind, and perhaps not even the real soul. Five years with no contact from whom he thought to be a very good and close friend was starting to become quite suspicious. All he wanted to know was why. But here, fate seemed to be throwing him Multehx in various pieces, but not one coherent whole; and this character seemed far less than coherent. Also, while he seemed to be nothing more than a danger to people’s dignity, the greater danger lurked in what he was not. Lich dreaded to think that fate was playing in Havering’s favour, also: Multehx knew about Havering and could stop him, or at least he could tell Lich how to.

He looked around the village green as Multehxio strolled along it. Its usual morning hubbub of city commuters headed for the train station had ground to a halt; though, those without job security were strafing the edges of the square, trying to remain unnoticed. Others had taken refuge in the doorways of the buildings around them and were peering nervously towards the strange black figure. News of what had happened yesterday had spread around extremely quickly, even with the media agreeing to drop this story before it was printed or aired to save their embarrassment; besides, there was enough to fill newspapers and bulletins with war- and Scorpion Army-related stories.
But, who needed television when drama was about to unfold before you? Here was the Guardian of the Cyan Arc, one of the town’s personalities of sorts, about to take on the figure who had wreaked comic chaos upon the town yesterday evening. This was going to be interesting.

The Yoshi knew this. He knew everyone would be watching. He knew that his reputation would be tarnished after the media grilling. Here was a good opportunity to restore it. “Alright, cousin,” he said, the term still leaving a strange taste in his mouth, “what do I do about him?”

Sixtyfourhundred narrowed his eyes as one of the park benches began to scurry like a crab to another part of the green. “Keep him occupied,” he replied.

“Great,” Lich sighed. “Does this mean I have to put myself into the firing line?”

“Not really,” he shrugged. “Just keep asking him questions.”

Lich found his casualness rather off-putting. “Questions. Okay.” He turned to Dakota, who was busy scribbling as always. “I trust you know that I will have fought valiantly for my country, even if I lose?” he asked in Pandoran.

“Yes, Syoro von Kippo, of course,” Dakota replied without lifting his eyes from his notepad as he still scribbled away on it.

“Right.” He drew a breath and puffed out his chest. “I’m going in.”

The Guardian of the Cyan Arc strode towards the prankster. He needed to show some bravado as he did this to look both impressive and purposeful, as it was the only way everyone would believe what he was doing; he thought he could hear the quiet tapping of one hand clapping as someone showed him support, albeit very briefly. Of course, Lich knew the two halves of bravado: the sweet courage and the sour stupidity. He hoped he would end up giving off the former.

He looked at Multehxio, who was chuckling at the bench’s antics. This possessor liked practical jokes, and seemed to be right at home with slapstick. With a quick prayer rattled off in his head, he slowed his paces down to a casual stroll. Striding was a sign of authority, and authority figures were targets for mockery. He drew his fingers across his lips, stopped himself from drawing a breath as it would make him look unconfident, smiled and spoke with a friendly tone, “Hello, what might you be doing?”

Multehxio grinned childishly as he continued to look at the bench. “Stuff,” he spoke in an equally childish tone. “Fun stuff.”

So far, so good, Lich decided. “I see,” he replied sagely. “Pardon my asking,” he spoke with a shy laugh, “but does any of this fun stuff involve someone called Multehx?”

“Nope, he’s out,” Multehxio answered curtly.

Lich blinked, retracting his previous decision. “Out?” he voiced his confusion. “How do you mean by out?”

“Line’s down. Big nap.”

Nap? So Multehx is probably somewhere in there, just unable to respond, Lich thought. “Ah. Is he going to wake up soon?”

The only reply was a shrug. Lich felt somewhat disheartened, but it was a start, and at least it had been sensible so far. But, by the way Multehxio laid his eyes upon Kippo’s town hall just then, grinned in determination, and started to plod meaningfully towards it, things threatened to change.

Lich saw his target and cringed, cursing in a quiet whisper. This was an official government building, the symbol of civic pride in Kippo, and thus an attacking it was a direct attack at Kippo. Worse, Syoro von Kippo would have to live up to his namesake and a failure could cost his reputation even more dearly than the media throng had done. He quickly gave chase and tried to stop Multehxio by asking hurriedly, “Well, do you know why he’s not responding?”

“Robo dude knocked him out,” Multehxio answered without losing a step.

Robo dude? ‘G’ratu! Lich swore mentally as he realised whom Multehxio spoke of. It takes away both brothers! Gulto, calm down, calm down… “Well, would you be able to help me please?” he asked.

“Yes,” Multehxio replied quickly with a nod, still walking towards the town hall, searching his cape for something.

“Oh good,” Lich answered with a relieved sigh as people standing near the town hall quickly slipped away, not wanting to be the target of some prank. “Well, could you please help me bring Multehx back?”

“Nope,” another quick reply came as a paintbrush was withdrawn. Those who remained nearby watched Multehxio, intrigued, as he continued to search his cape.

“But, you said you would be able to help me,” Lich complained, and then quickly remembered to add the question, “dintyou?”

“Yes,” he replied, continuing to search, seeming to save Lich from becoming a target.

Lich blinked again, and realised the verbal trap he had fallen into. “So why not bringing him back then?” he tried to clarify.

Multehxio finally withdrew a tin of what seemed to be very tacky teal paint and looked up determinedly at the town hall. The villagers put two and two together. A dead hush fell over the crowd. “Why should I?” his voice rang out.

“Well…” Lich started, and then frowned. This was about to dance on the edge of philosophy’s black hole, where everything was right so long as you stood your ground, thus making the outcome of all arguments neutral, if not neutered. “The owner of the body has a right to come back to it, don’t you think?”

There was a clatter followed by a splosh as Multehxio opened the tin, which was now floating in mid-air, and dipped the paintbrush in. “Yup,” he agreed. “But why should I do the work?”

“Because you’re in the best position to, aren’t you?” Lich replied, his voice straining to hold in his impatience.

Multehxio shrugged. “Could be,” he answered.

He reached towards the wall with the paintbrush, ready to place a smear. Lich shot out his hand and quickly grabbed the brush, the bristles an inch away from the wall.

“Look,” he sighed, fighting to restrain his anger, “let me tell you the situation, please?”

“Talk,” Multehxio commanded impatiently as he tried to shake the brush free.

“We have a very powerful, very angry, very evil demon out in the multiverse somewhere who is threatening the state of the cosmos as we speak,” Lich explained in a low growl, partly so that the villagers did not hear and panic. “The only person who can stop him is Multehx. Do you see why I need you to help me bring him back?”

“Yes,” he snapped.

“So, will you please help me?” Lich asked indignantly.

Multehxio deftly moved the paintbrush into his other hand. “Don’t have to.”

He moved it towards the wall again, only to have Lich’s hand stop it once more. “What if I tell you he’s threatening your existence?” he asked with a hint of pleading in his voice.

“No, he isn’t,” Multehxio answered. “Luvaci would never attempt anything on me. He’s smart.”

Luvaci…Havering? Havering is called Luvaci? Unless there’s another demon he’s talking about but that’s not likely…Luvaci. Must remember that. “So you know who I’m talking about,” Lich said with a resigned frown. “If he wouldn’t attempt anything on you, he would attempt anything on those things dear to you, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at,” the prankster sighed, before he freed the brush from Lich’s grip. He pointed it at Lich and said, “You waste breath on a lot of useless questions, you know?”

He turned back towards the wall and reached out once more. He was stopped yet again, but this time by Lich’s throwing hand squeezing his wrist tightly to a murmur from the crowd. “Look, Multehxio,” he hissed, almost spitting the name, and then jerked a thumb into his own chest, “I am trying to save the multiverse. The multiverse. Is there not one bone in your body that cares about my plight?”

A diamond and a robotic eye glared through garish shades at the Yoshi. Although eyebrows were one of his body’s unnoticeable features, Multehxio still appeared to frown at him. “You’re hurting me,” he muttered angrily. “You don’t like my work. You’re like him.”

Lich wanted to argue, but with Multehxio’s threatening look, his train of thought had to jump five tracks sideways to find a question that would at least save him from further public humiliation. “Who’s him?”

The biot’s expression deadpanned. “I learned a bit of attitude from Multehx,” he growled as his hand entered a pocket. “I think, in a spot like this, he’d say something like, ‘Well, stop asking lame-ass questions already!’”

The hand retrieved a flower. Like a nozzle on a fire hose, it shot water at Lich, forcing him to stumble back under its pressure. A few seconds after it began, the water stopped, leaving a dripping and bedraggled Lich.

“The sour puss,” Multehxio answered his question. “The lizard in armour. He always opposed fun.”

Lich shook the water out of his mop of hair, flicked it out of his eyes and looked to Dakota scribbling more furiously than normal, and Sixtyfourhundred fold his arms and frown. He turned back to Multehxio, who was re-dipping the brush in the paint tin again, his patience now at the end of its tether. He had humiliated him now, and had insulted his friend – family – in the process.

“That,” Lich spat, shaking water out of his shorts, “would be, because we have better things to do than be a nuisance to other people. I –” No! They’ll think it’s all my fault! “–You,” he corrected himself, “were brought here in the hope that Multehx would return and he could help us all out, but it seems I have been wrong,” he sighed, and then quickly remembered to ask, “don’t you agree?”

The prankster regarded him with a look that branded Lich “a pesky brat”, and then performed the equivalent of quirking a brow. “How big is your brain?” he asked. “I think your nose might be creeping in to steal space.”

Lich heard a few quiet laughs from the villagers. “Perhaps so,” he agreed with the last of his diplomacy, “but at least I’m not a nuisance to everybody,” he hissed before he wrung the water out of part of the shorts’ fabric.

Multehxio sighed and let the brush hang in mid-air. “I don't speak more than I must,” he spoke with a resigned sigh. “Words are only as good as what you put them to. You know, things were different back then. Everyone actually used their words to do something, and not just spout the same gibberish over and over and over. Gaw, you think your position makes you king of all knowledge?” He snorted and shook his head. “I like to remain happy. Bad things happen when I'm not. You claim to be about safety, but you're endangering a lot of people right now.” He gestured to the villagers and folded his arms. “Multehx makes his decisions. He does what he does, and I don't interfere. He gives me my time, I give him his. I don't infringe on that, ever. Finding someone I can trust enough to share a body with is near impossible already; I won't lose that trust so easily. Why don't you get your head out from between your legs, straighten up, and get a frickin’ clue, genius,” he tapped the side of his head. “And start asking questions that mean something.” He sighed as he let his anger dissipate and picked up the paintbrush. “Now I feel irritated. I must make things pretty.”

With that, he turned to the wall and began his work.

Lich rolled his eyes, raised his hands and then slapped them to his sides with a sharp sigh. Any more arguments would be pointless now. He was defeated. “Whatever,” he sighed, and then turned to see the crowd still looking at him. “Alright, show’s over, leave him be, go do something worthwhile with your lives,” he announced.

The hubbub of activity started up again, although people took a wide detour around the muttering Multehxio. Lich started to stride back towards the inn. Ark was gone. Multehx was gone. He cringed with that thought.

“Do you still want to call that valiant?” Dakota asked as he came up beside him with Sixtyfourhundred in tow.

“Whatever, I don’t care,” Lich sighed. “Someone will tell the constabulary eventually. They can sort him out. All I care about now is having a meeting with Nase Porami and telling the Pandoran Army in person that I exist; but first, I’m going to have a drink.”

“It’s a bit early, do–”

“I told you all I care about.”

Lich reached the door of the inn and saw his father behind the desk. He reached a hand towards the door but caught his father’s disapproving frown just in time.

“One,” Reuben warned him, speaking from experience.