Master Key (for raggedy_doll)

[hypnotic_patter]

Given the nature of his business Ragdoll had a habit of going off the radar for days or weeks at a time. Billy was generally all right with it. Plenty of people had long-distance relationships where their first conversation in a month involved giddy Skype calls from remote South American dictatorships that had recently had a major administration shift.

Still, he kept tabs in the best way he could. When his Google Alerts notified him that "Peter Merkel Jr." had made the news again he abandoned his half-finished sonic gun and ran to see what his dancing doll had done to make the world more interesting. The scene of a smoking building half-submerged in the river made him smile. Meister popped open a soda and stretched out to watch the news report.

The costume worn by one combatant was identified as that of Peter Merkel Jr., better known as Ragdoll, while the identity of his attackers was unclear. Their brutal battle spanned several city blocks, ending at a fuel station used for local barges. It's unclear exactly how the fire started but the blaze quickly led to a massive explosion that demolished several nearby buildings. Witnesses report that Merkel's injuries during the battle were quite severe, indicating he most likely died in the explosion. The only bodies identified so far were those of local dock workers, and two others were burned beyond recognition. So far no one knows the motives behind--

Some part of him had always assumed Ragdoll was invincible. Rubbery, able to bounce back from any catastrophe with a smile and a bizarre quip. In some ways he had seemed more force of nature than mortal human. Billy left increasingly desperate messages on Peter's voice mail, but after a few days of silence denial seemed impossible. He huddled in his dressing room trying to write some appropriate requiem in Peter's honor. Nothing he could create seemed grand enough to encompass the beautiful kaleidoscope chaos that was Ragdoll. He spent hours staring at the ceiling with the RENT soundtrack playing in the background, devoid of inspiration or the will to create.

At the end of the week a knock on the back door roused him from restless drowsing. He leapt from his bed and ran to the door, still in t-shirt and boxers, hoping against hope that--

Who the heck were these dorks?

A group of one man and two women were gathered in his back alley. Their clothes were loose white muslin with embroidered red coats. All of them wore elaborate jewelry and golden bangles around their wrists, as well as beads threaded into their long braids. "Music Meister." The group bowed low to him, as if he were some pope of weird people. "It is an honor, a privilege, to finally be in your presence."

"Eh?" He brushed his hair out of his eyes. "Who exactly are you?"

"We are the Acolytes of the Celestial Echo." Possibly they could sense how close he was to ordering them to pile themselves in the nearby dumpster, so the explanation was extremely rushed. "We believe that the universe was created by a single song, and that this song was then taught by the gods to the first humans. All songs thereafter are humanity's feeble attempts to recreate that which they once knew, buried deep within our ancestral memory. No living person can repeat it, for time has withered our voices."

"I see. You're crazy people." When he found who gave them his address he was going to beat them with a stick. Billy frowned. "I'm really not in the mood for creepy cults right now."

Again the low bows, their jewelry clinking. "We are sorry for your loss. We know how it must pain you."

"You know nothing about it." He had the door slammed in their faces before the implications of their words fully sunk in. The door opened a crack. "...what do you know about it?" Few people knew he was connected to Peter, let alone dating him. It wasn't their business.

"We have been following you for some time. You have a voice like no other, something precious beyond measure, and we believe it may accomplish what no other voice can. You alone, Music Meister, could bring the first song back into the world."

"So basically you're saying you're my stalkers." He leaned on the door, arms folded. This was not garbage he needed to be dealing with before coffee and a shower. "I appreciate the sentiment, I just don't care. There won't be any performances for a while, and you should understand why."

"Fully." The lead man reached into the ragged bag hanging at his side and produced a familiar mask. It had obviously been cleaned, but traces of dried blood and dirt lingered where the false hair met the pale face. Billy gaped.

"Why do you..."

"It was pulled from the rubble by the police. We recovered it by--"

"Give it to me!" Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? Your gambols? Your songs? Your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar?
Billy snatched it out of the acolyte's thin fingers, hugging it tightly to his chest. His fingers ran fondly through the red mass of yarn. To Billy the mask was Peter's face as much as the scarred flesh beneath it.

"If you will come with us you may get back the rest of him...and more besides. The song created the world. Bringing one soul back from the dead would be a minor affair by comparison. Come with us and we shall teach you the song that meager mortals cannot sing. You will be worshiped as a new Apollo with we your willing servants, and your dancer shall return to your side."

Billy tongued the gap between his teeth. In his thoughtfulness he did not hear the soft humming by the acolyte in the back or see the way her fingers moved in arcane patterns across the symbol held in his first two fingers. The merest nudge, though even that took a great deal of their power. They appealed to the Songbringer's grief and his pride in unison, and this was only the final push to tip him over the edge of the cliff. The mask of the fallen dancer would bring his lover under their sway.

"Keep talking."

Comments

[raggedy_doll]

That certainly did pay off. They had a name, they had activity that absolutely proved that they were using Meister for something, and they even had a location...

"North Africa? Man, why's it always Africa with these guys?"

"Was it Africa, last time? I still think it might have been Cleveland."

Small quibbles aside, they had at least a good guess as to where Meister might be. If, by good guess, you meant an entire continent, and a very large one. But since that was only one out of seven, it did narrow it down somewhat... If he was actually there.

They really needed a way to be sure.

"...Are you sure, Mr. Merkel?" Scandal had driven him out to the Zechlins' house, and she looked, if not worried, then slightly concerned. He had to admit, he was feeling unaccountably anxious himself.

"Of course! Just because we haven't spoken since all that mess doesn't mean we can't ask an old friend for help. Why, I'd be remiss if I didn't seek out her expertise."

"If you say so."

He did say so.

He said as much to Lori, who was definitely shocked to see them -- shocked, and awkward. In fact, he didn't actually say as much to Lori until after some awkward silence and back-and-forth between them. When she heard that they needed her help, she was hesitant, but eventually... well, something made her agree, though he'd begun to think she might not. He wasn't really sure why.

"But you don't know where this guy is? Trying to find Blake last time, it was... big. Really big. I don't know how else to describe it."

"Yes, I thought of that." Ragdoll pulled out Billy's iPod, offering it to Lori. "Here. This belongs to him. He hardly goes anywhere without it. Some magic user out there should be able to trace people through things like that, do you think?"

"Yeah... Yeah, I'm sure there is." She sounded more confident, taking the music player -- then glancing at the two of them. "Uh -- Is it gonna be just you guys?"

They glanced at each other, then. After a moment, Scandal sighed, brushing her bangs out of her face. "I'm sure Bane would want to come. Maybe Kay, too. The others should probably stay behind to field assassins, or in case someone spots him around the city."

"Well, come on, then." Suddenly decided, Black Alice headed toward the door. "I didn't feel like going to class, anyway."

[hypnotic_patter]

The two-pronged attack, magic and Google, proved the most fertile.

Meister's attachment to the iPod, combined with some creativity of theft on Alice's part, was able to track him to within approximately 75 square miles of rural Ethiopia. Not ideal, but closer than they were. It was notable that the tracking was so vague...for such an important item, it should have been sharper.

The symbol present on the cultists' jewelry was more elusive, but 'search by image' pulled through once it was turned to the right angle. It tracked back to a news story from several years ago, where the symbol was captured by a security camera during a theft of a set of clay tablets containing a Hurrian hymn to the goddess Nikkal--believed to be the oldest known written music, written in cuneiform. The tablets had only begun to be deciphered and even the scant information gleaned by various archeologists was hotly contested. They were never recovered.

[raggedy_doll]

Musical cultists -- no, cultists with a specific attachment to very old music. Not a surprising revelation, and apparently even less so given Meister's apparent current location.

"It makes sense," Alice said. "Most scientists think the earliest humans were born in Africa. We learned about this a little in school. If they're into really ancient songs, they'd be there."

"William is probably enjoying himself, the scamp." Actually, he probably was not. The sooner they set out, the better.

They had to rely on Black Alice for quite a lot, in the end. Without her, the trip would have taken a very long time, whereas with her magic they stepped out into Ethiopia within a few moments. And as there was a dearth of people who knew how to speak English (or Spanish) within such a rural area, the fact that she could give herself the gift of languages was incredibly important -- especially when they showed around the symbols on the cultists' robes, and several locals recognized them.

They were incredibly strange, and they weren't far away. If they could "borrow" a vehicle, it wouldn't take much time at all to get there.

(In the backseat of the vehicle, Black Alice placed one of her hands on his.

"Hey... Ragdoll... Peter. Um. He'll be okay."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"Tut, tut. Think nothing of it, Lori, dear.")

They ditched the vehicle as soon as the building -- almost a temple, really -- came into sight in the distance; it wouldn't do to be spotted. As they got in close, Ragdoll volunteered, "I'll go in myself, shall I?"

No one argued. He was the stealthy one of them. Besides... "We'll stay out of range of his voice," Bane said. "In case there is trouble."

"If anything happens, we'll come in swinging." Knockout seemed to enjoy the prospect.

"You sure you don't want me to come with? I can maybe help you find him...?" Lori worried at her lip, worried at both the prospect of going in and staying out here to let Ragdoll go it alone.

"That won't be necessary."

As Ragdoll prepared to duck inside, Scandal stopped him, calling out quietly. "Mr. Merkel?" When he paused, she continued, "Remember that... there's hope. Even for us."

"...Thank you, Scandal." And then he slipped inside. All he had to do was find William, now. Then those reassurances would prove entirely unneeded.

[hypnotic_patter]

From the outside the temple resembled a mosque, with high minarets topped with loudspeakers. Acolytes were working the gardens outside its walls, tending both food crops and native flowers surrounded by statues of dancers. The walls inside were painted with murals of artwork from worldwide cultures, focusing on deities of music and the arts. Kokopeli with his flute played alongside Apollo and his lyre, the Greek muses sat in a ring above singing Väinämöinen and dancing Huehuecóyotl.

One would think that such a temple would be adorned with eternal song, its practitioners dancing in divine ecstasy. Instead recordings of natural sounds were being piped over the loudspeakers. Rushing water, baying lions, singing whales, whistling wind, but nothing created by the mind of man. Nothing imperfect must distract them from contemplation of the divine music.

Further down, past thick doors, there was barely any sound at all. The few acolytes in the inner parts of the temple were dressed in grander regalia and spoke in whispers. And beyond the second set of doors, only a single voice presided, singing in a long-lost tongue.

[raggedy_doll]

Getting up to the temple's walls without being seen was more difficult than actually getting inside, or getting around once inside. Once indoors, the temple had more statues and crevices for sneaking purposes than a Doll could ever need; he moved quietly, heading toward the first set of doors and waiting for them to open so he could slip inside.

Once inside, the sole, familiar voice promised to lead Ragdoll directly to him -- but it was also slightly worrying. The language was unfamiliar, but William did not sound discontent. Of course, he knew that William had come with them of his own free will, but if for some reason he didn't want to leave...

Well, that problem could be solved if they came to it. He waited until the coast was clear, then dropped nimbly to the ground in front of the second set of doors, and pushed them open, slipping inside.

[hypnotic_patter]

The singing abruptly cut off. "Must you keep interrupting me?" Billy sounded mildly irritated, though Ragdoll himself wasn't anywhere in sight.

A brief pause as he listened to an inaudible reply. "Yes, that's very nice, but I need to practice."

Another pause. From here one might think he was talking on the telephone. "All right, ten minutes. But if I'm accused of slacking I'm blaming you fully, dear Doll." There was the sound of a glass of water being poured.

[raggedy_doll]

Oh, that was a terribly bad sign. He was the one who was supposed to be talking to dead (or supposedly dead, in this case) compatriots! William must be in a very unbalanced state indeed -- he should know.

"William?" He poked his head around the corner, trying to find his performer in the rooms. "William, who are you talking to?" There was really no breaking the 'I'm alive, and also right over here' news lightly; Meister would either take it well or he would not.

[hypnotic_patter]

"Do you see any other chattering monkeys to blame?" Billy laughed, and there was something slightly hysteric about it. The cant of his voice was not quite right.

The room was lit with hanging lanterns, whose electric bulbs artfully imitated atmospheric candlelight. The brightest light came from the center of the room, where a long scroll was illuminated upon a long, slanted table. So as not to strain the student's eyes as they poured over the text.

Billy was perpendicular to Ragdoll, seated in a large and comfortable chair. He wore the same color of robes as the others, with sandals on his feet and regular glasses rather than his usual visor. Even in the dim light one could see the dark circles under his eyes and the way his normally meticulous hair had been left uncared for.

Crouched beside him, staring up mutely at Meister, was a passable imitation of Ragdoll himself. It wore his costume and its long limbs were folded into the same near-impossible contortions. On its face was Ragdoll's mask.

"You want to blame him for everything. Next global warning will be his fault. You'd still be dead without the Echo's help, you realize." Billy ran his hand fondly over the yarn on the other's head.

[raggedy_doll]

Ragdoll really wasn't the best judge of these things, but there were certainly a few things that seemed wrong here. Being taken in by a cult certainly wasn't one of the fun ways of going daffy, and it wasn't only Ragdoll's role to be talking to deceased dear ones, but also to have stuffed versions of them in his rooms to talk to -- this just wouldn't do at all. The fact that Meister seemed otherwise unpleasantly addled and unkempt was almost besides the point.

He stepped into the room, craning around, tilting and waving to get Billy's attention. "Hello? William, hello!"

...Having to vie for attention was never something he enjoyed, and he was quickly deciding that he didn't like anyone stealing his position, shtick and limelight, not even himself.

[hypnotic_patter]

Billy looked from the real Peter to the false one, confused beyond measure. The construct twisted itself around, one hand reaching up to block the intruder from Billy. The mask's eyes stared blankly at their owner.

Billy seemed about to cry out before something seemed to click into place in his brain, once again forcing him to accept this new order of things.

"What game are you playing at now?" he asked, laughing even harder. "What is that, a puppet? A hologram? I adore you, Doll, but two of you is a bit much."

[raggedy_doll]

"Yes, well, something like that!" He watched the other-him move, trying to figure out what it was, exactly. Another bendy person keeping mute? No. "Echo decided you could use a double, for your performance."

Billy was practicing for something, from the sound of things. The fact that there was going to be a performance was easy to guess -- and if William truly thought this 'Echo' had helped bring him back from the dead, surely he wouldn't balk at the idea that Echo had managed a temporary double, somehow.

"Generous, isn't he?" he added. "This performance, it must be quite important..."

[hypnotic_patter]

The explanation was taken without question, as were most things that Billy was told these days.

"Of course it is, and if you'd stop complaining for five minutes you'd understand. Most people would be slightly grateful but no, you have to keep nitpicking."

The false Doll stared at Peter, head tilted to one side. The cautionary hand lowered to pluck at Billy's sleeve, and Billy responded as if it were a plea.

"No, they can't. It's bad enough for my concentration that you're here, with the Six trampling all over it would be unbearable." Billy's thumb rubbed the smoothness of the mask's forehead. He spoke with a fanatic's rambling and the same passion he usually used when talking about his own awesomeness. "Patience, Doll. Once the song is performed perfectly you will lack for nothing, and neither will they. I will be a god among the joyful masses, you a god's consort, and your friends my princes and princesses. Can you not forget these petty things? Think of what awaits us when I bring back what once was lost and fill this world with song!"

He took a swig from the water glass as the false Doll twisted into something approaching a sitting position. Its head rested against Billy's leg. But his poor lonely children...?

"I'll ask. Maybe we can put them in the garden or something." Were monkeys native to this area?

[raggedy_doll]

The whatever-it-was must have been created by the cult, for some reason -- but was it really complaining about things? It certainly seemed to have been giving Billy trouble, which was all to the good, really. Why it would be doing that didn't matter very much, at the moment.

He listened to Meister's one-sided enthusiastic rambling... It wasn't difficult to figure out what that fake Doll was "saying," actually. And what the cult must be offering. That should have been enough to put William in this state, though, surely...?

"You know, perhaps I have been somewhat unfair, since they have been so accomadating. If you tell me all about this performance once again, sweet William, I promise I will listen oh-so-nicely this time. You seem all a-twitter over it! Why, I haven't seen you this nervous in months!"

[hypnotic_patter]

Billy groaned. He stood, pacing the floor as the false doll skittered at his heels. While the imposter kept sneaking looks at the original, it made no move to interfere with him.

"The first song," he said, with the irritation of someone repeating information that should already be known. "The song that created the world and inspired all music thereafter. The Acolytes of the Celestial Echo discovered its lost melody but only I have the power to sing it properly. The first time I used it I had enough power to bring you back from the land of the dead, though apparently your attention span took a bit longer to follow your soul."

His fingers trailed over the table, just beneath the long scroll. "With the Echo's rites and my voice, we will recreate that perfect moment when the divine song was first heard upon this imperfect Earth. I will have the power to remake the world as I please it, and my worshipers will spread my voice to the furthest corners of the globe." With the help of a little modern technology. "It will make everything I have done up until this point seem paltry."

He turned on Peter with a wide, heartfelt smile. His hand pressed to his chest. "It will be so beautiful," he promised. "No pain, no Arkham, no vigilantes to nip at our heels. All your twisted heart desires will be yours." And he knew that was quite a lot of twisted things.

[raggedy_doll]

He had to admit, he hadn't considered world domination before, but all his twisted heart's desires being his did sound tempting. He'd be slightly more inclined to play along with things if he didn't dislike William's "worshippers" so intensely.

The fake kept looking at him, but didn't seem inclined to attack, or to sound the alarm. He'd leave it be for now, and trust that it would be at least slightly cooperative.

"I can't say I dislike the sound of that." Though it was very unlike Meister's usual schemes, which didn't come anywhere near "reshape the entire world in my image and take everything over and be worshipped as a god" territory. He did dislike how drastic a shift it was, or at least the fact that Billy had been manipulated into it. "And I know it will be beautiful, William. With you performing, how could it be otherwise? But are you really certain they are entirely loyal to you?"

[hypnotic_patter]

Billy threw up his hands. "Again with this nonsense?" The double took a few steps back, as if wary of a blow. "Every time we get a moment alone you bang on about this. The Echo only want to fill the world with song, they certainly aren't manipulating me. The isolation from the world and imperfect music is to keep me focused. Everything they do is for my good, for the greater good. I wish you would simply accept that."

The double's arm wrapped like a python around Billy's leg, which seemed to bring him down from his ire. "I know, I know," he muttered. "But they would never do anything to harm us. I am the Songbringer and they are my devotees."

[raggedy_doll]

"Perhaps so." That was probably the best Billy was getting out of either of them. 'Not manipulating him'... Even without the double, it was fairly clear that they were manipulating Billy somehow. If nothing else, the assassination attempt and this strange homunculus were proof enough of that.

Peter could only hope that Billy could be made to see that, and they hadn't addled his brain permanently. This fervor over someone else's songs and ideas didn't suit him.

"Hmmm. Refresh my memory one last time, will you? When is this performance, again? I want to be certain I'm prepared."

[hypnotic_patter]

"In two nights, when the moon is full. I have the song full memorized but that's when I will add my special pitch to the mix. It's fortunate that the acolytes are immune or I'd have to handle the entire thing myself and that would be a total pain." He'd need at least another month's practice for something like that.

Billy kept wandering the length of the scroll. A watchful eye might notice that his robe was decorated in cuneiform, much like the stolen tablets. "And oh, how you will dance..."

He began to sing softly to himself in the same strange language he'd used before. The words seemed crude, like the utterances of a child first learning to speak, but the song was pure as water. The double froze with its head tilted ninety degrees.

It was hard to lay one's finger on exactly what changed when Billy sang. Perhaps the room was warmer, or perhaps it was just one's skin felt warmer, or the lamps flared up brighter.

[raggedy_doll]

"Oh, I am sure I will."

Two nights. Well, he certainly wasn't going to wait around that long. Perhaps there was a way to speed things up...

Before he could ask, Billy started to sing again. Quietly, but the effect was instantaneous and notable, even to him. It was a little warmer, a little brighter, the world almost seemed to be wavering in the corners of his eyes, and of course there was the fact that his double froze in place and listened as if spellbound.

It wasn't actually hypnotic. Meister wasn't using that special pitch of his. But there was something about the song that was... not quite appealing. But it made his head itch. On the inside, not the outside.

He realized he was listening with his own head cocked slightly to one side, though not a full ninety degrees. Hmph. "There's no chance of an early dress rehearsal, I suppose?"

[hypnotic_patter]

"Yes, tomorrow morning. My debut to my believers. I've been working on it so long that it's become practically tattooed on the inside of my head." Billy tapped his finger against his temple. "Which is why I needed the isolation. My high priests have been drilling me in it and I'm finally ready." He leaned on the table, drawing in a few deep breaths. "I'm quite sure I'll be unable to sleep," he said, though his body looked on the verge of collapse. They had filled his head with wonderful visions, and even when he practiced he could feel the power rising around him.

The false Doll stroked his leg. "As if you're the poster child for good sleep habits," Billy mumbled. "I will, don't fuss." When Billy looked back at the scroll the false Doll twisted its neck around and stared directly at Peter. No words, but all the same there seemed to be some meaning in its dull gaze.