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Vell Harlan and the Doomsday Dorms
Book 3 Chapter 9.1: Brain Dead Redemption

Book 3 Chapter 9.1: Brain Dead Redemption

“A fucking Marine Biologist, Vell?”

“She’s nice,” Vell protested.

It was shocking enough that Skye had turned out to be a Marine Biologist. What was really upsetting was that Vell had apparently decided to keep dating her.

“She’s indirectly responsible for killing us at least- hold on,” Hawke said. He did some quick counting in his head. “Forty-six times, Vell!”

“Lots of people have killed us,” Vell said. “Freddy got us frozen in time like two weeks ago, and you invited him to join your bocce club!”

“And that was a mistake,” Kim said. Mostly because Freddy was terrible at bocce. “Look. I get where you’re coming from. But we have no idea what Skye is or isn’t involved in. What if she’s done some really reckless shit?”

“From what she’s said, she’s the one trying to keep the others in check,” Vell said. Despite their shared field of study, Skye was not on good terms with the other members of her department, and generally disagreed with their reckless experiments.

“And how can you be sure?”

Vell shrugged. He had absolutely no evidence other than his trust in Skye. Kim made eyes appear on her digital face long enough to roll them and then made the screen go blank again.

“You two are being remarkably quiet,” Hawke said. He glanced at Lee and Harley, who were sitting quietly on the sidelines. “You’ve been putting up with this bullshit longer than we have.”

“We’ve also known Vell longer than you have,” Lee said. “And though we remain vigilant, we are trusting his judgment.”

The two veterans had their own reservations about trusting a Marine Biologist, but they trusted Vell far more than they mistrusted their longtime rivals. If he said Skye was fine, then Skye was fine.

“Eugh, alright,” Kim said. Now outnumbered, she conceded defeat. Samson had excused himself from the entire scenario, so she didn’t have the votes to put up a fight. Also, Vell’s love life was not a democracy. But peer pressure helped. “But I’m keeping an eye on her.”

“Fine. But don’t be weird about it,” Vell said. “She’s already barely on board with our nonsense.”

Skye liked Vell, and all of his friends, but they had a lot of nonsense to put up with. Hawke nodded in understanding, as even he did not fully keep up with all the nonsense.

“So, are we good, or do we want to debate my happiness a little longer?” Vell asked. “Because I do have an apparently questionable date tonight, and I want to get stuff done first.”

“Cut and run folks, you’ve annoyed Vell enough for him to get sarcastic,” Harley cautioned.

Kim took the advice and backed off, for now. Since they had no apocalypse to prevent (yet), the loopers went their separate ways and turned their attention towards more conventional matters -or at least tried to.

“Heads up, Lee,” Harley said, with a tug at Lee’s sleeve. “There’s a hedge walking our way.”

“Not again,” Lee sighed. She withdrew a large pair of magical hedge clippers from her purse.

“Not that kind,” Harley said, shoving the over sized gardening implement back in the purse. She pointed to the left. “Look.”

A single bush was sitting in the middle of a walkway, and a few students awkwardly stepped around it. As soon as they had passed, the bush sprouted legs and shuffled forward. A few of the branches higher up in the bush were pushed aside, presumably so the person hiding inside could see, and the process repeated itself. Harley and Lee stood and watched as the bush quite obviously crept closer and closer towards them.

“Should we do something?”

“No, no, let’s just see where this goes,” Lee said, as the bush crept even closer. “I’m curious now.”

After a solid two minutes of the bush creeping closer and closer, the suspicious shrub got close enough that a single arm could extend from the bush and poke Harley in the knee.

“Psst. Harley.”

“Aww fuck,” Harley said. She knew that voice. “What do you want, Michaela?”

“Keep it down,” Michaela said. The gills on her neck flared as her head extended out of the bush. “I’m undercover.”

“Sure,” Harley said. There were at least twelve people across the quad staring directly at Michaela right now. The scion of the Marine Biology department had a knack for being the opposite of subtle. “Again. What do you want?”

“It’s about your tall noodly friend and the blonde one,” Michaela said.

“Vell and Skye,” Lee corrected. “You’ve known them for three years.”

“Whatever, you know what I mean,” Michaela said. “And you know what they’re up to!”

“The canoodling, yes, I’m aware,” Harley said. Lee nodded in agreement.

“Then you know we have to put a stop to it,” Michaela whispered.

“Do we?”

“Yes! Your kind and mine are natural enemies,” Michaela said. “Like dogs and cats, or cats and mice, or mice and elephants. Mice don’t fuck elephants!”

“I think there are reasons for that other than natural enmity, dear,” Lee said.

“And haven’t you been trying to get in my pants for the past three years?” Harley scoffed.

“That’s different,” Michaela said, showing no signs that she would elaborate on the point. “What these two are doing is not okay, and we have to put a stop to it! Are you going to help me or not?”

“I am thinking-”

“We’re in,” Lee said. She even extended her hand for Michaela to shake, an exchange Harley watched with wide-eyed confusion.

“I’ll contact you when it’s time for our first mission,” Michaela said. She withdrew back into the bush, then stuck out an arm to salute in their direction before extending her legs and sprinting off, leaving a trail of leaves in her wake.

“Lee, why are we helping the psycho in the bush sabotage our friend?”

“Obviously we’re not,” Lee said. “I just said that so we can sabotage their attempts at sabotage.”

“Oh, I get it,” Harley said. She was immediately on board. “We can be double agents!”

“Precisely.”

“Are we going to keep this a secret from Vell, though?”

“Only for so long as doing so is funny,” Lee said. “At the first sign of actual trouble we tell him everything.”

“Hell yeah,” Harley said. “Let’s do this.”

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“We’ve been invited, if you can believe it,” Lee said. Though she and Harley were keeping their clandestine activities secret from the other loopers for now, they did feel the need to rant to someone. That someone being Joan, via phone call.

“I kind of don’t believe it,” Joan said. She’d never gotten too familiar with the Marine Biology department in her one year at the Einstein-Odinson, but she was familiar enough to know they were Lee and Harley’s mortal enemies. “Are you sure this isn’t some kind of trap?”

“If it were a trap, Michaela would’ve tried way harder to convince us it was safe,” Harley said.

“What, are you kidding me? The lady who creeps around in a bush isn’t subtle?” Joan said. “And don’t make any ‘bush’ jokes, Harley.”

“You’re just lucky I haven’t got any good ones,” Harley said, with an eerily malevolent chuckle. “We got to head out, though. Time for our first meeting with our new best friends. See you, Joan.”

“Later Harley,” Joan said. “Bye, Lee.”

Lee said goodbye as well, then hung up, and did one last check on Harley before they entered the lab of their longtimes foes. She had an odd look on her face.

“Something the matter, darling?”

“No, no, just weird,” Harley said. “It’s odd being here and not planning to ruin their day.”

“Not in the usual way, at least.”

“Right.”

Harley took a deep breath, and took lead into the belly of the beast. After so many years of chaotic conflict, it felt odd to be an invited guest in the Marine Biology lab, even under false circumstances. Thankfully for Lee’s sense of familiarity, while they were invited, they were mostly certainly not welcome. Every one of the lab’s occupants were staring daggers at Lee and Harley.

The most loathsome look of all came from the patriarch of the Marine Biologists, Dr. Professor Michael Watkins, as he insisted he be called.

“Wise of you to come,” Michael said. “I think we can agree this problem will best be solved with a two-pronged approach.”

“Yeah, sure,” Harley said. “Got to put a stop to this nonsense and all that.”

“Precisely! Cooperation of that kind is unnatural.”

“You know we’re cooperating right now, right?”

“That’s different,” Michael snapped, showing no signs that he would elaborate. Just like his daughter. Harley did a quick double take between the father daughter duo and let out a deep, shaking sigh.

“Now, I imagine you are no more excited about this cooperation than we are, so let us be brief,” Michael Watkins said. “While we employ specialized tactics and well thought out plans to sabotage Skye, you shall employ your natural talents in ruining everything you touch to dissuade that noodly friend of yours from continuing this farcical romance. We shall communicate only when necessary. Are we clear?”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“No, actually,” Harley said. She paused and deeply considered what she was about to say, then decided to say it anyway. “We need Michaela’s help.”

Lee stared at Harley like she’d grown a second head. Something that hadn’t actually happened to them yet, so it was a very shocked stare.

“I knew you were into me,” Michaela said. She went in for a hug/grope, and Harley stuck out a hand to keep her at bay.

“Platonically,” Harley clarified. “We just need a third person to help with some of our ideas. So Vell doesn’t get suspicious.”

“If you must,” Michael said.

“Now if you’ll excuse us,” Lee said. “We should probably get going on our first plan. Michaela, why don’t you go ahead and get your...whatever it is you need to do these sorts of things.”

“Oh, yes, I have something prepared just for this,” Michaela said, worryingly. She dashed ahead while Lee and Harley abandoned the lab and then went for a quick aside.

“Harley, dear, I appreciate you ‘yes, and’-ing my idea to double cross the Marine Biologists,” Lee said. “But is working with Michaela really a good idea?”

“Probably not,” Harley said. “And believe me, I’m not really excited about it either. But I think we should.”

“Elaborate.”

“Look, maybe this is me being crazy, but I’ve got it in my head...hold on,” Harley said. She needed to take a minute and collect her thoughts. This kind of behavior did not come naturally to her. “You know a bit ago, when we were talking to Joan, and we just made jokes, and got along?”

“Yes.”

“Well, a while ago, I wouldn’t have fucking done that,” Harley said. “I hated her guts, and I thought she was a bad influence, and all sorts of other shit. And I know I wasn’t entirely wrong to feel that way, but I was mostly wrong. Joan got better, and she’s a good guy now, and...ugh.”

Harley stuck her tongue out at the mere thought of what she was about to say.

“Maybe we need to give Michaela a chance to be good too,” Harley grumbled.

“Harley, as much as I genuinely respect the intention...Michaela? Really?”

“I know! But think about it, all she’s ever done is follow her dad’s lead,” Harley said. “What if she just never had a good example? Maybe we can be the people to teach her how not to be a piece of shit.”

The subject of Harley’s moral dilemma returned, dragging a huge cart behind her. The contents of the handcart were covered in a large canvas cloth, adding a layer of suspense to her return that Harley did not appreciate.

“What you got there, Michaela?”

“Oh well, I had to get pretty extreme,” Michaela said. “Bad dates don’t come naturally to me. But, I figured out a good way to ruin any date!

Michaela pulled the canvas off her cat of supplies in a grand, sweeping gesture.

“Flamethrowers!”

About eighteen large fuel tanks and hoses in various states of disassembly were littering the cart. Flamethrowers were a naturally dangerous resource, and Michaela had managed to cobble them together in a way that looked even more dangerous.

“Wow, that is certainly a lot of highly flammable material,” Harley said. “Maybe we start with something less incendiary.”

“Why?”

“Where did you even get all of these, Michaela?”

“The Fuel Systems Engineering guys build them for fun,” Michaela said. Shockingly, that was the first Harley and Lee had heard of recreational flamethrower building on campus. They were both shocked it hadn’t caused problems before.

“And they gave them to you?”

Michaela stared forward for a solid three seconds.

“Yes!”

“Michaela.”

“It’s fine,” She insisted. “I know how to use this, here, watch.”

Michaela reached for the lever of one of the flamethrowers on the cart.

“Michaela, don’t you-”

Before Harley could finish her warning, Michaela activated one of the flamethrowers -right on top of all the other flamethrowers. The chain reaction was as immediate as it was violent. Harley barely had time to give a single dissatisfied sigh before a careening fuel tank rocketed right towards her and exploded.

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“Well I went looking for some flamethrowers, but apparently the Fuel Systems guys got all theirs confiscated today,” Michaela said. “I don’t really know what to do now.”

Lee glanced sideways at Harley. They’d made sure to hide the flamethrowers the second time around. Even with that apocalyptic danger removed, Michaela still posed a constant threat, to their patience if nothing else. Lee leaned sideways to whisper in Harley’s ear.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?”

“If anything, I want to do it more,” Harley said. “Imagine a world where we don’t have to deal with this every other week.”

“There’d just be something else in her place,” Lee said. “Better the devil we know, perhaps.”

“What are you guys talking about?”

“Nothing, Michaela,” Harley said, before turning back to Lee. “We’re literally at college, we can give it the old college try. Pull the ripcord whenever you want.”

“I’m in if you are,” Lee said. “But you’re doing the talking.”

“Yeah, yeah, I already have an idea,” Harley said. “Might even be fun for us too.”

She broke away from their conversational aside and approached Michaela, giving the gilled scientist a quick scan as she did so. She looked about the perfect height for what Harley had in mind.

“Hey Michaela, quick question,” Harley said. “How do you feel about costumes?”

“Like a disguise?”

“Sort of,” Harley said, with a sly smile.

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“It wasn’t really the best movie I’d ever seen, but it did at least have a message,” Vell said. “I feel like a lot of films these days are either CGI action montages or people working out their mommy issues on camera.”

“I like the mommy issue movies,” Skye said. “And no, not because they resonate with me. I love my mom.”

“See, I like my mom too, those films just bug me,” Vell said. “Like, go to therapy. Don’t spend sixty million dollars on arthouse coping mechanisms.”

A quick lunch date entailed a casual discussion of movies they’d watched recently, among other topics. After the brief burst of chatter, Skye and Vell returned to their meals, albeit briefly. A commotion behind them quickly pulled their attention away.

“Oh, people shouting,” Skye said. “Is that your queue to run off and do something inexplicable?”

“It shouldn’t be,” Vell muttered. Lee and Harley had insisted they could handle the firebomb situation today on their own. They were close to two hours past the time things had been meant to start blowing up, so it felt unlikely that it would be apocalypse related.

“Do you want to go check it out anyway?”

Somebody in the distance started laughing. Vell figured laughter was usually a good sign. Maybe someone was doing drunken Shakespeare again.

“Yeah, might as well,” Vell said.

The dating duo stood and walked side by side to the scene of the commotion. A crowd of spectators had gathered on the quad to watch a gaggle of security drones chase what appeared to be a partially decayed humanoid crow. Vell wondered if it actually was some kind of over sized zombie bird for a moment before realizing it was just a mascot costume in very poor condition. The dilapidated raven sprinted in circles, with security bots hot on its rotting tailfeathers.

“Do we have a mascot?”

“We used to,” Skye said. “They ditched the branding back in the early 90’s, but the Einstein-Odinson used to have a whole ‘Mighty Muninn’ theme with it’s sports teams. Didn’t you read the student handbook?”

“I’ve actually never read a handbook,” Vell said. “Harley thinks I’m cursed.”

“Huh.”

As Skye was unpacking a new layer of weirdness in her boyfriend’s life, the decaying raven mascot kept sprinting around campus, pursued closely by the security drones. One of the drones managed to snatch a handful of crumbling tailfeathers off the back, much to the amusement of the students watching the spectacle.

“Watch your tail, birdbrain,” someone shouted.

The one-eyed head of the raven mascot whipped in the direction of the offending student.

“Uh oh.”

The Muninn Mascot ran for the spectators and made a diving tackle for the student who’d offended them. They barely missed the mark as the student dodged, and the raven mascot landed in a heap, scattering feathers all over the impact site. The raven costume was already short an eye, to follow up on the Odin theming, and the hard landing made the one plastic eye it had roll out of its socket, completely blinding the foam beast.

“Nice moves, dipshit,” the mocking student said, as the mascot attempted to get back to its feet. He was joined by several other students in laughing at the raven as the security drones finally caught up to it and latched on, apprehending the rogue mascot.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Dean Lichman said, as he approached the scene and silenced the mocking students. “All of you have classes you should be focusing on. Move along.”

The stern warning from the undead dean got people moving. Vell and Skye were the first to lose interest and return to their date, and every other student soon followed. Only when all potential gawkers were out of sight did Dean Lichman turn his attention back to the mascot. All too keenly aware of potential similarities to Scooby Doo, Dean Lichman unmasked the perpetrator.

“Michaela Watkins,” the Dean sighed. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Secret mission stuff,” Michaela said. She had loose chunks of moldy foam in her hair, but being damp with costume sweat did nothing to dampen her pride. “It’s very important.”

“I’m sure,” Dean Lichman said. “Come on, we’re going to my office.”

“What, you think you can get me in trouble? My dad’s a professor.”

“Something that in no way exempts you from discipline,” Dean Lichman scolded. “You’ve disrupted my campus, attempted to assault a student, and misappropriated school resources, albeit retired ones.”

The Dean had been aware of their past mascot, but had no idea they still had a costume in storage somewhere. He was shocked to see it had survived thirty years in a basement, though ‘survived’ was perhaps the wrong term. The mascot costume looked more rotten than he did, and smelled far worse. His nose was partially decayed and Dean Lichman could still smell ancient sweat and mold.

“It’s nothing,” Michaela said. “My dad’s a professor.”

“Yes, you’ve already said that,” Dean Lichman said. “This is a minor disciplinary action, Ms. Watkins, do not escalate it unnecessarily.”

“Wait! Hold on!”

Dean Lichman turned around to see Lee and Harley running his way, which was always enough to give him pause. Those two tended to bring problems, though they almost always brought solutions as well.

“Sorry, Dean Lichman,” Lee said. “But this was our idea.”

“Things maybe got a little out of hand with the tackle, but yeah,” Harley said. “We asked Michaela to do this.”

Dean Lichman did a quick double take and then checked both his ears to make sure they hadn’t fallen to pieces without him noticing. They appeared to be intact, so the Dean had to double check something else.

“I’m sorry? You’re working with Michaela Watkins?”

“Yes.”

“Voluntarily?”

“Yes.”

The Dean went cross-eyed for a moment.

“I assume this is for something important, then?”

“Relatively speaking,” Lee said. “I’d be happy to tell you all about it, if you like.”

Unlike some of his predecessors, Dean Lichman was a trustworthy figure, and Lee knew she could rely on him. Thankfully that trust went both ways.

“Somehow I feel I’m better off not knowing,” the Dean said, correctly. “Whatever it is you’re doing, I would ask that you be slightly less disruptive about it in the future. I can only extend so much leeway.”

“We’ll endeavor to be more careful in the future,” Lee said. “Thank you, Dean.”

The Dean shrugged off her gratitude and walked back towards his office with a shake of his head, leaving Lee and Harley with still-costumed Michaela.

“I knew that would work out,” Michaela said. “My Dad’s a professor.”

“Of course he is,” Harley said. “Now can we get you out of that costume, you smell like a corpse soaked in gym sweat.”

“Probably not right now,” Michaela said. She held up two moldy wing towards the chest of the mascot. “I’m naked under this.”

“Eugh,” Harley groaned, taking a quick step back. “Why?”

“It’s hot in this thing!”

“Okay, we’ll get you changed in your dorm,” Harley said. “And let you take one hell of a shower, you’re going to get a yeast infection. Or something worse.”

Harley shuddered at the thought of what bacteria were brewing in that cauldron of sweat, mold, and nudity. On that unhygienic topic, she and Michaela were in full agreement, and Michaela tucked the desiccated mascot head under her arm as she headed back to her dorm.

“I do my best thinking in the shower anyway,” Michaela boasted. “And we need a way better idea, because I don’t think that ruined their date at all.”

“Don’t be so sure. They did stop to gawk at you,” Lee said. “I bet they were having some kind of argument over whether or not the school should still have a mascot.”

In reality, Vell and Skye had been discussing his childhood lego sets, and how he could possibly assemble them without instructions (he just looked at the box and figured things out). Michaela, being entirely unaware of that fact and possessing an ego the size of some large galaxies, was easily led into believing her scrambling dash had somehow sabotaged Vell’s date.

“We’ll have to try again, though,” Michaela insisted. “I want them to be at each other’s throats.”

Harley just hoped she didn’t mean that literally.

“Yeah, and next time, let’s do something less public,” Harley said. “It didn’t really feel good to get laughed at and made fun of, did it?’

It was about time Harley started using this time to try and make Michaela a better person. So far they had only succeeded in publicly embarrassing her, which, while satisfying, would only be productive if they could turn that humiliation into humility.

“No, it was horrible.”

“Right, exactly. And so when you make fun of people…”

Harley let herself trail off in the hopes Michaela would finish the thought, but she didn’t. She didn’t even seem aware that Harley had been speaking.

“Michaela.”

“What?”

“Do you think that the people you make fun of feel bad too?”

“Oh, no,” Michaela said. “I only laugh at people who deserve it.”

Harley’s slappin’ hand started moving, but she reined it in at the last second.

“Maybe just think about it,” Harley said. “Maybe sometimes you’re wrong about how deserves to get made fun of.”

“No, that sounds stupid,” Michaela said. “And I’m sure of that.”

The slappin’ hand twitched, but stayed still, as Harley sighed to herself.