Vince Noir and the Seven Shamans
mightyboosh/Snow white theme
Category: The Mighty Boosh, Crossovers / Fandom Fusions
Characters: Bob Fossil, Dixon Bainbridge, Howard Moon, Other, Vince Noir
Pairing: Howard Moon/Vince Noir
Genre: Fandom Fusion, Humour, Romance
Rating: R
Warning: Character Death, Violence - Heavy, Unspecified Warning
Status: WIP
Length: 1-5k words
Notes: This was random and i just ran with it.
I love it!!!!
Much love to my Beta, Radar-Rox!!!
Once again i apologise to the boys for my slander of altheir genius, only this time, i also have to apologise for fucking with walt Disney and mixing up his coloured pens.
Vince Noir and the Seven Shamans by SilverFalcon
Once upon a time, in a land far beyond the realms of family dinners and mass produced t-shirts, there lived an old King and his two sons. The King and his subjects lived in harmony and peace, for both Princes were of immense beauty and suitors came far and wide to look upon them, all vying for their hands in marriage. A marriage that would secure their realm to the utopia that was Camden.
Not a single day passed when the realm did not thank themselves lucky for their Princes. For both sons were identical in looks, with ebony black hair, eyes like sapphires and skin as fair as snow; no other child could compare. The elder Prince’s beauty was whispered throughout the land. He was worshipped a God amongst mere mortals. Gifts poured in, clothes and accessories and declarations of love. All eyes centred upon him, his look the epitome of style and fame. No hair was as well kept or styled. No skin as clear and pale, no eyes that could sparkle so nor any lips as sultry, or any whose style could possibly compare.
Save one.
As each day passed the younger brother’s beauty grew and with it so too did the elder’s jealousy.
Soon the gifts that arriving for the elder Prince found their way into the younger’s hands. The letters and poems, the clothes and trinkets, and the subjects of Camden flocked around the castle in imitations of the younger child’s look, humming his tunes and praising his style.
All the while the elder looked on.
It is this tale in which I tell, the tale of the beauty and the beast, the spurn of jealousy and the bite of ambition. A tale of love, style and the boundaries of magic.
This is the tale of the Prince and the Seven Shamans.
Our tale begins on a day in the courtyard of the Camden Tower. The sun brilliant and the air cool enough for short sleeves, the perfume of open flowers spreading an easy giddiness about the Tower and the sound of giggling echoed over the happy gurgle of the fountains.
Descending upon the scene one may have been mistaken for witnessing two twin girls languishing their spare time in the fresh air. However it had been many a year since the pair had been mistaken for the opposite but not obviously fairer sex. However it had happened once or twice in the adjoining months that they had been mistaken for twins. It was a factor not presently worth discussion, the distinction between the two obvious upon first greeting.
“Look at this Lance.” Vince beamed, spinning, the cape spreading and rippling as Vince turned. Silver careening into electric blue, following purple and rustic red. Vince laughed, the air toying through his hair and the sun bouncing off the colours, their vibrancy rippling through the air like an electric current. A current that seemed earnest to sate Vince’s colourful appetite.
“How brilliant is this?” Vince giggled waving his arms as he spun so the cape bent and twisted.
“Yeah, it’s great.” Lance murmured, peering at his brother through his lashes. Vince laughed, spinning on the grass. The cape spreading to reveal his brother’s latest style, a jumpsuit, orange and black. Something only Vince could carry off to the perfection it required.
Secretly Lance was infuriated. The cape should have been his, a gift, sent from Sir Court of Ney. But it, like most things these days, went first to Vince. Then, when his younger brother was satisfied, would it be his. But by then it would be pointless. There was no point in wearing something his brother had already worn. No style worth any notice, for Vince had everything covered.
Lance frowned over his magazine, trying to drown out the sounds of Vince’s giggles as he amused himself with the intricately designed cape.
It was virtually impossible.
Where ever he went, his brother followed. Complements raining down from all sides, even he, Lance, the heir to the throne of Camden, was requited more than once to carry on and administer others complements on Vince. Needless to say, Vince never received the message from Leeds.
Lance swore if he was met with another mention of his brother’s growing style and worth amongst the Camden elite he would scream.
“Lance. What you reading?” Lance looked up, straight into his brother’s dazzling blue eyes.
“Craze.” Lance replied dully.
“Oh.” Vince replied, his face quickly returning to it’s impish grin. “Cool.”
“Mmm.” Lance replied.
“Lance?” Lance looked up again.
“Who do you think would win in a fight? Jagger, or … Iggy Pop?” Lance quickly suppressed a groan.
“Don’t know,” he replied, turning back to the magazine.
“But I’m bored, Lance.” Vince groaned, standing over his brother, peering through his lashes.
“Why don’t you keep spinning or something. Play with your cape.” Lance muttered.
“Yeah, it’s well brilliant. Innit?” Vince beamed.
“Yeah. Almost as good as that coat you got last week.”
“Nah, this is way better. Check out the electric blue!” he grinned, waving the colour in Lance’s face. Lance rolled his eyes, feigning a smile he looked up at his brother.
“Yeah, s’pose.”
“Lance.” Vince said. Not quite a question, but more of a statement.
“Lance. Lance?”
”What?”
“I’m hungry.” Vince grinned,
“Then go and get something to eat.”
“But I want sweets Lance. We ran out!” Vince pouted. Lance suppressed another groan.
”I heard they got some more in this morning, Vince.” he replied. That had been ammunition for later. The ability to torment Vince with the knowledge the Tower had somehow managed to run out of boot laces and Saturn zingers when there was a new crate waiting to be pried open to Vince’s childish winging. But, times like these called for an early volley of ammunition.
“Really?” Vince immediately perked up. Eyes shining brighter than ever.
Lance nodded, staring down at the magazine, not having the ability to take in the words.
“Genius!” Vince laughed,
“Yup.” Lance muttered, staring at the picture on the magazine, listening to the sounds of Vince’s boots on the pavement as he disappeared into the Tower in search of more cavities.
Peace and quiet. Lance sighed. That’s what he needed, peace from Vince and his relentless enthusiasm. He brought sunshine into every room with him, and lance, Lance was the sort of person who enjoyed it when it rained. But it never rained on Vince’s parade. Only his.
Lance turned the page.
“DAMMIT!” he yelled, Vince’s face beaming up from the page.
Even in the peace and quiet Vince was always there. Always loved.
Prince Vince has topped this years Style charts of Crazed, knocking off our long time leader – his brother, Prince Lance. One can only imagine where our young Prince will go, and if he can knock Lance off the style charts, it’s time for Camden to reconsider which one of our Princes will ascend the throne, Lance or Vince? I know which one Crazed is backing…
Lance threw the magazine as far as he could. Watching it fall to the ground. First his style, then his friends, then his magazine and now his crown. Lance suppressed the urge to yell something obscene. Vince was everywhere. Like an infection. An infection that had everyone smiling. Lance ran a hand through his hair, Crazed might think they knew everything, but they didn’t. There was only one thing that could answer Lance’s dilemmas. It knew the truth, it would tell him. And then, and only then would he figure out what to do about his brother.
End Notes: im lovin it, so this will keep going!!!!
tell me your opinions as you will.
mwah.
SF
