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

[hypnotic_patter]

There was a laugh in his voice. Okay, yes, mind and body alike. "I hadn't known there'd be one." He was almost apologetic about it. Stealing their spotlight and all, making them go to so much trouble. He was mildly impressed that they'd shown up at all, even with Ragdoll's encouragement.

Billy turned his head to look at Lori, one eyebrow raising behind the glasses. "I"m sorry, I don't think we've met?"

[raggedy_doll]

"We definitely haven't," Lori agreed. "I'm Black Alice. I was with the Six, for a while, before... stuff happened." She sounded a little bit wistful, for a second. They weren't-- well, they weren't heroes, or the good guys, and they definitely did some awful stuff, but--

"Anyway." She brushed that off pretty quick. "Nice to finally meet you, Music Man -- you've got good taste."

"What should we do about these?" Bane spoke up, then, indicating the still gathered acolytes, voice and expression serious.

[hypnotic_patter]

Billy peered over Peter's shoulder down the length of his lanky body, then looked back at Black Alice. The awkward, weary grin was still on his face. "You are literally the first person to ever tell me that. Unless you were talking about the hat." Because this was a really amazing hat.

The acolytes raised to their knees, heads still bowed. One of them shyly lifted her gaze, kohl-ringed eyes wide. "We...Songbringer, we are..." Pledged to you, your eternal slaves, worshipers of your great song, people who would greatly prefer not to be choked to death by your partner. One of those.

"Music Meister," Billy said, pointing at the 'M' notes on his coat. "My name is Music Meister. I picked it, I made the costume, it's on my rap sheet. And...I don't even know." He shrugged at Bane. Decisions took effort. He was low on effort right now and had no urge for vengeance upon the idiot sheep.

[raggedy_doll]

Lori looked up to the Music Meister's hat, her own eyebrows raising. "Believe me, I'm not talking about the hat." The feather was pretty, she guessed, but... wow, that was flashy.

"They are sheep," Knockout said simply. "Not soldiers." She could tell, just looking at them. They weren't a threat, not unless mobilized by someone much more dangerous -- and even then, it was unlikely.

"They usually are," Ragdoll agreed. "You know, my father's followers would just blow themselves up when he planned on leaving for good. Will they do the same, do you think?" He sounded as if he hoped that was the case; still mostly supporting William, he wasn't feeling incredibly charitable.

"They're not any threat." It was apparently up to Scandal to decide; no one else was going to. "Come on. Let's go home."

Black Alice glanced over to Meister and Ragdoll, then raised a hand and reached out for a suitable source of magic. "Right." Those two weren't the only ones that could costume change. Her top shifted into a black tuxedo top, with a pentagram below the bow tie; a top hat was suddenly on her head, and fishnet stockings on her legs.

"Emoh latrop a nepo!"

A rift split the air in front of them, opening into a portal, and she stepped out of the way. "After you guys."

[hypnotic_patter]

Goth chorus girl? Now she really had no business criticizing his fashion choices, even if that was a fairly useful trick--oh, it did things, too. Wasn't that Zatanna's gimmick? Once his brain came back he'd have to go update himself on the superhero who's who.

"But what shall we do?" the cultist begged. Billy looked down on them. So tiny, the lot of them, pleading for control in the one moment where he was in no mood to give it. He kicked a bit of dust at her. "Go home. Get a job. Start a band in your garage. Stop following random weirdos around."

Billy leaned on Ragdoll again, letting his own weirdo guide him where he would.

[raggedy_doll]

Ragdoll accepted his singer's weight -- and he was a singer, not a "Songbringer." A creator, not a vessel. This whole ordeal would be behind them soon enough, luckily.

"The god that birthed a hundred terrible garage bands," he said, voice cheerful, guiding Billy through the portal. "Why, they may continue to terrorize yet!" But the fate of those idiots wasn't their problem; William was well out of it, now. They were home.

[hypnotic_patter]

The House of Secrets had never seemed intimidating to Billy, at least not more than its inhabitants, and now it seemed practically welcoming. "Could we find that guest room? I'm not sure I can deal with monkeys right now."

And he needed to sit down. Forever.

[raggedy_doll]

While the others went off to the kitchen for breakfast -- Black Alice and even Scandal glancing back at them once or twice in a little concern -- Ragdoll herded Meister towards one of the guest rooms.

It was a nice room, really, and it would suit purpose, especially if that purpose was to sit down. There were several chairs, and a medium-sized bed, and it really didn't matter which Billy felt like going to, because Ragdoll fully intended to stay wrapped around him for a while and he wouldn't have any problem remaining so no matter the place or position.

Peter didn't need to work through what had happened. At all. That wasn't how his mind worked, at least in the absence of death -- death that mattered to him, anyway. But he hadn't let go yet since he'd finished killing that cult leader, the cult leader that had been responsible for William's weeks-long abduction, and he didn't like cults, so he didn't see why he should let go just yet. He had, by crushing the man's windpipe, stolen William back, so he had earned clinginess.

[hypnotic_patter]

Billy was hardly against the idea. He'd yanked Ragdoll's mask off the moment they got the door shut, needing to see the brightness of his eyes and touch the curves of every perfect scar. Being bound up in his arms was exactly where Billy wanted to be.

For a long time he didn't say anything at all. Words seemed shallow and empty now. He curled up on the bed, letting Ragdoll bend to accommodate him.

"If they ever need the favor paid back...I mean, anything you guys can't handle on your own terrifies me, but the offer's there." His face was pressed against Ragdoll's collarbone, or at least what he thought was his collarbone. Even with his eyes closed he could feel the way Ragdoll bent in ways no human should bend.

[raggedy_doll]

Meister curled up, and Ragdoll obliged him, bending and twisting and relaxing into a posture that no one should be able to achieve, much less relax in. But he was splayed comfortably around and in some cases over William, as if utterly boneless, and while some parts of him complained that he'd been doing much of anything over the past two weeks, they would quiet as he rested.

"Hmmm." He made a tuneless humming noise, considering the offer as William's breath puffed against his skin. "If it comes to that, you could. But they wouldn't expect it of you. They're more decent than they'd like to admit to being, really." Just because he was nearly always irreverent didn't mean he was unobservant. "And, strictly speaking, Scandal likely thought she was paying me back. Knockout and Mr. Bane just accompanied her."

[hypnotic_patter]

"Still. Just putting it out there." Billy ran his thumb down the back of Ragdoll's neck. His time with the cult was remembered as if through a fog, but not nearly as impenetrable as he'd like. He remembered a friendly shadow at his side constantly trying to draw him away from his induced obsession. It had spoken--refused to shut up, actually--but when he'd seen its real face it had clearly lost that ability a long time ago.

"Peter? What was that...thing you pulled the mask off?" It had been presented to him as Ragdoll reborn. They'd brought Billy before an altar and laid the mask across it, and to his eyes had conjured a living body from thin air. In retrospect he could see where trapdoors and stage magic gimmicks could trick a mind that had already begun to be corrupted, but that could not have been the whole of it.

[raggedy_doll]

"You know, I don't know?" He wriggled into a slightly more comfortable position, Billy's hair tickling his chin as he rested it more firmly against him, thoughtfully. "They called it a 'puppet' and a 'necessary tool' and so on, but it was lying to them and, you know, I'm sure it was on your side?"

He couldn't muster very fond feelings for his created double, but he did, in some recess of his heart, appreciate that it may have kept things from going much, much worse for William than they might otherwise have.

"It assisted me, and they wanted it to keep an eye on you but it kept arguing, didn't it?" He'd caught some of those half-conversations, after all.

[hypnotic_patter]

"It did. In your winding, disjointed way, at that." Billy's fingers tapped thoughtfully on Ragdoll's spine. "If it wasn't the cult's doing then it was my power keeping it animated. Perhaps in some way it was acting out my repressed thoughts and desires in the only venue left to me."

He peeked over Ragdoll's shoulder to where the mask lay on a nearby chair, half-covered by Billy's hat. "Irony. The part of me that couldn't be controlled was represented by you."

[raggedy_doll]

It certainly made sense, that Billy was the one keeping it animated. It was around him constantly, after all, and it had certainly been acting on Billy's best interests rather than what the cult wanted it to do.

Ragdoll tilted his head slightly, smiling. "Aren't I the part of your life you can least control? Is that irony, really, or Alanis Morissette irony?"

[hypnotic_patter]

"Ironic in that you're the part they used to control me." Billy had never understood that song, anyway. "But ha, yes. I suppose you might be. That or Batman." The very idea of someone trying to control Ragdoll made him chuckle. Order him about, perhaps, but sink your fingers into the whirlwind and drive it about? Impossible.

He let his head fall back down onto the mattress again and began wiggling his shoes off his feet. It was a nice bed. Shouldn't get it all dusty. "That was a heck of a thing, you know?"

What else did you say?

[raggedy_doll]

"So they chose the least controllable part of your life to try controlling," Batman didn't count and couldn't compare, thank you, "thinking they could control you with it, but you wound up controlling it instead, so they couldn't control you?" He tapped his fingers against Billy's back. Huh! "That may be ironic after all!"

William was the only person who could manage to steer him, sometimes, for short periods -- with his song, with his hypnotism. He could momentarily quiet the whirlwind. But that wasn't the same, was it? That was ordering about with bells and whistles, really.

"Yes, William." What else could be said? Why, when nothing could be said without falling short, anything could be said, really. "Er... Are you referring to the last two weeks entirely, or just the 'possessed by a primal force' part of it?"

[hypnotic_patter]

Billy agreed. It was control in the way a puppet was controlled by its strings--the body moved but the soul was left undisturbed. It wasn't at all the same as what those horrible people had done to him to keep him a mental prisoner embracing a corpse.

"Yes. Both. Either one I'd really prefer not to do again."

[raggedy_doll]

"It wasn't very enjoyable," Ragdoll agreed. "I've never been fond of cults, and this one was so taxing." He'd certainly had to exercise patience on that trip, and restraint, and where was the fun in that?

He tilted his head to peek at Billy. "But you know... it was a stunning performance." An, uh, a revelation, if you will.

[hypnotic_patter]

"It was...that it was..." There was a fondness in Billy's voice, despite how shaky the affair had left him. It was beautiful beyond measure and he hardly needed to tell Ragdoll what it had been like. Billy rolled over onto his back, Ragdoll shifting with him.

"But I think I'm not cut out for being a god. I'm just a B-grade supervillain trying to get by."