Sang Sacré
The fictional Buffista City. With a variety of neighborhoods, climates, and an Evil Genius or two, Sang Sacre is where we'd all live if it were real. Jump in -- find a neighborhood, start a parade, become a superhero. It's what you make it.
History. Map.
"Sparrow. Wind Sparrow. I'm with the Demonic Justice League and Lobbyists Union. We tend not to think so much in terms of Demon Armies so much as hordes of demon lawyers, and policymakers. But your fiery attitude is just what we need to warm up the Conference. What a role model you are for all aspiring demon politicians. And there will be plenty of time for the old meet and greet, and networking opportunities galore. And the cruise liner selected for this glorious jaunt is first class luxury all the way - spa, games, tai chi, pool, whirl pool, fabulous entertainment extravaganzas. After your keynote speech you will be welcome to partake of any of the standard amenities, as well as any of the sessions that interest you. And don't forget the vendors' area - nothing but the highest quality technological and magical suppliers. But don't feel pressured to go to more than you like, because as our esteemed guest, you will be welcome to as much downtime as you like.
"Let me just say how excited we at DJL&LU are to know you will be there to take our conference to another level."
"If it's evil you want, I know a portal over to Terra Prime, we could get you Bush and Cheney."
"We aren't that evil," said Sparrow, "and we have a different view of justice."
I am bitterer than usual this morning, probably because my coffee is too. I get why the imps took all the sugar, but the Sang Saccharine too? Really?
I angrily smack down my 'Attorneys Bill You For It' mug, and scrounge for something else to give me my morning caffeine fix.
Marvin is sorting the mail, dumping junk scrolls into the recycling bin, and looks up worriedly. Though it's hard to tell when a troll is worried, their faces tend to be furrowed by default.
"Sir?"
"This is horrible. We need to figure out some way out of this Candyland mess."
"Sir, I'm sure the city officials are already working on the solution." His delivery is too perfect, and I burst out laughing. He rumbles along with me, shaking the room and causing one of my nouveau faux art deco pieces to hang askew.
"Marvin, you and I need to hang out more." I open the mini-fridge Marvin keeps under his desk. Water, holy water, O neg, ah, a can of Coke in the back. I grab it.
"Maybe this will take your mind off things, Sir." Marvin's holding up a plastic-looking scroll, which folds out into the shape of a boat. Classy.
"A cruise? I really cannot afford a vacation right now, Marvin."
Marvin mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like "or a raise, you cheap bastard".
"What was that?"
"I said, this could raise your worth faster in this town." Marvin's surprisingly quick for a troll. "It's a demon networking cruise. Could be good for you and for business." He raises a troll eyebrow, which is also hard to make out since their hairlines go down to their noses. His long-overdue raise. I am a cheap bastard.
It could be good for me too. I hadn't really done anything in this town for, hmm, something like three years now. Not that many folks had.
"Alright, sign me up." I take a sip of my Coke as I walk back to my office. Ugh. I spit it out. The glucose right out of our soda cans? Really?
I'm not foolish enough to wander into Candyland alone, a couple of calls to the city watch scored some reinforcements. They weren't too happy about the lack of chocolate and sugar either, so they didn't have any aversion to helping out. I wish I didn't have the castle defense bot stripped down for its annual overhaul, but fortunately I have some other gadgets to help out.
By the time our van pulls up to Blackwood Parish park, the city watch has already set up a perimeter. It's time for Hans and I to get ready. Luckily, I had two sets of my new Mark IV powered armor prototypes functional. Being encased in state of the art protection makes me feel a lot better. I grab a prototype blast-o-matic laser pistol and plug it's power feed into my suit before holstering it. I really need a less campy name for that piece of hardware. Hans grabs my homemade flamethrower and straps on the backpack of fuel.
The city watch commander walks up, I can tell he's dubious about Hans and I coming along. "We're almost ready to go in, we are going to divide into three teams, alpha, beta, and epsilon. Alpha and beta will clear a path, epsilon will be in charge of figuring out how to close the portal. You two are in epsilon with Grimtooth and Stoner for escort, your job is avoid engaging any hostiles."
"Sure." I didn't expect to be in charge and frankly, that was for the best. I pressed a button on the side of the van and a panel slid open revealing a rack of rifles and goggles.
"Before we go in I have some presents for the watch." I said.
The commander takes a rifle from the rack and gives it a look over, feels the weight. "These look kinda familiar."
"M41-A pulse rifles, well fully functional replicas anyhow. People will pay a fortune for these things when they hit the market." I tell him proudly. "They're minus the grenade launchers though, those are still in development."
"These things really work?" He asks. "What does it fire?"
"10mm caseless high explosive tip light armor piercing. Like I said, fully functional."
He shrugs his shoulders. "What the hell, that robot of yours that cleans everything up at the barracks works."
"You'll need the goggles as well, they'll defeat the invisibility of the gnomes and imps." I tell him as I grab a pair to show him.
"Good." The commander seems a lot less skeptical about the goggles.
In a few minutes, the watch members are all equipped. Hans and I both sling a pulse rifle as well, the powered armor makes the extra weight irrelevant. We advance on the portal. Alpha team heads in first, rifles slung. They look relaxed, too relaxed, I guess it's hard to take the danger seriously when you're walking down candy cane lane. I just hope this goes as smooth as the commander apparently thinks it will.
I bustled the mayor off to his connecting flight, complimenting him profusely along the way. Here's hoping he's sufficiently buttered to not notice the fine print.
It's a Disney Cruise. He may not be the only demon there, but it will be far more cheerful than he can cope with. Seriously, that whole chocolate fiasco was calling out for some major vengence.
So - not ginger, then. Which is a trifle disappointing, but on the other hand - breasts! So that's definitely a turn up for the books.
On the downside, though, my current ensemble is designed for someone taller and narrower than I presently find myself.
Sigh.
It takes me quite a while of rummaging through the various wardrobes in the TARDIS in search of something appropriate for this new incarnation; it's not that there's any lack of female clothes, but for some reason I seem to have ended up rather more, ah, generously padded in various locations than most of my companions have been in the past.
I survey Peri's cast-offs with a jaundiced eye, and conclude that shoulder pads are not really my thing. I examine one of Leela's fur bikinis with slightly appalled fascination, but it's quickly clear that I would need to sew three or four of them together in order to contain my new-found cleavage. I rather like some of Romana's things, but looking at them depresses the hell out of me - in my heart of hearts I'm still hoping that somewhere out there I'll stumble across her again - perhaps in E-space, or perhaps somewhere closer to home. Stranger things have certainly happened.
I don't look at anything that was left by Rose or Donna.
After a while I realise that I'm going about this all wrong. I don't want anyone else's cast offs. I close my eyes, and wander deeper into the TARDIS's wardrobe, half-expecting to find snow and fauns and magical lions amidst all the furcoats. Instead I find purple velvet trousers and a soft, unstructured jacket to match. I rather like the way it billows out like a cape when I twirl.
Understated has never been part of my sartorial mission statement, regardless of regeneration.
Right. A shocking pink blouse and a pair of red sequinned ballet flats are added to the ensemble. I have a vague feeling that there ought to be a hat, but at this point the TARDIS starts to make a rather distressing high-pitched wail, and I hurry back to the control room.
"There there, sweetheart," I say, patting the old girl and scanning half a dozen readouts and buttons and handles.
Odd.
Candyland? Surely not...
After a hard day of vengence, I like to kick back and watch some tv. I don't usually watch the news on tv, as I get plenty of worldwide status reports from the home office, which tend to be more, well, if not objective, exactly, at least covering more than one POV. Still I flip past one of the local stations' news show...
Huh, fancy that. The Doctor's regenerated again. She's fantastic.
Candyland - Portal Entrance
Once alpha and beta teams have crossed through the port, our time finally has come. Immediately inside, I take a relay unit disguised as a lollipop and shove it into the ground. Beta team is still visible a little ways ahead, Alpha team is further ahead around a bend in candy cane lane.
"Inga, you there?" I ask, speaking into the armor's comm system.
"You're coming in loud and clear." Replies Inga. "I've got visual feed from all units."
"Excellent." I turn off my mic, while I look around at Candyland for a minute. There is a path bordered lines candy canes leading directly away from the portal. Giant lollipops form a sort of forest on either side of the path, while gum drops and chocolate chips form the underbrush. No doubt there are chocolate gnomes out there somewhere.
The commander's voice cracks over the comm. "We've secured the immediate area. Where do we need to go to shut down the portal?"
"One minute I tell him." I remove a scanner from my backpack and point it toward the portal, looking for some trace of EM radiation that may lead us to whatever is holding the portal open. There it is, a narrow band of low frequency radio waves. Heading dead ahead. I sent a signal to everyone. Everyone's goggles and Hans' visor show a little arrow indicating the direction we need to go.
"There. We just need to follow the arrow." I tell the commander.
"Good. We proceed forward. We're at the edge of the forest up here, I want beta team to advance to our current position. Alpha team will explore the plain ahead. Epsilon will stay near the portal for now." Says the commander. I watch as beta team heads out. The minutes start to pass.
"I think we are clear to have epsilon team advan... wait a minute. Yeah, we've got something approaching, lots of somethings. Looks like chocolate bunnies and they have are carrying....candy canes" There is a minute of silence, then I hear gunshots in the distance and over the comm system.
"They have peppermint spears and they are attacking! Beta team move up!" There are more gunshots and a scream of pain.
"Beta team heading to your position. Oh shit what's that? Peeps! We've got Peeps coming for us." More gunshots ahead. I switch my visor to show the video feed from beta just in time to see a horde of giant pink Peeps. A few Peeps burst into goo as 10mm explosive rounds rip through through sugar coating, but there are too many. The video feeds from Beta go to static in quick succession.
"Alpha team is cut off. We've got to do something!" I say to Hans and our two city watch escorts.
Hans lowers the visor of his helmet and fires up the flamethrower. "It's time to make some smores."
And the thing is, obviously I
stopped
eating jelly babies, once I knew about their origins. I really did. And I felt very bad about the innocent delight I'd once taken in biting off their little heads.
Still, I've made a point of keeping clear of Candyland. The jelly people aren't a particularly forgiving bunch, by all accounts, and the Gingerbread Man accepted their demands for a fatwah as soon as they brought my case to their attention. The Oompa Loompas have got standing orders to shoot me on sight, and Willy Wonka couldn't persuade them otherwise, despite his very best efforts. (Which I consider really rather bad form, after I'd helped him rustle up that Great Glass Elevator. I mean, that's as close to TARDIS technology as anyone outside Gallifrey has ever been granted, dash it all.)
Candyland. It's not all sweetness and light.